Vanishing Point
by Thnx4theGum
Summary: Picks up right after ep 105. Booth decides that this time he won't let history repeat itself. Full of fluff!
1. Deja vu All Over Again

Vanishing Point

_ She's said it before- though he wasn't around to hear it back then- there are no singular moments in history, just moments, and you almost always get a second chance. For him, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result(well, actually, that was Cam, but we'll ascribe it to him since Brennan did). This second chance won't lead to insanity..._

It was Deja vu all over again as Booth watched the taxi's taillights disappear into the night, carrying his heart along with it. He could still feel the heat from her fingers slipping through his as he tried to hold onto her and in his mind his lips tasted like that unique mix of tequila and Bones.

The fact that the last time he'd let this happen it had taken thirteen months before she would talk to him again wasn't lost on him. But as he started to wonder how long it was this time, he pulled himself up short. Because this wasn't six years ago and they were far from the same people they were back then.

Double checking to make sure he hadn't left anything at the bar, he let his fingers brush over the well-worn poker chip as he took off at a jog for his SUV. He went into auto-pilot once he got going, leaving his mind free to pray like hell that he wasn't too late. A few minutes later he was pulling into the familiar parking lot, heaving a sigh of relief at the light coming out of her window.

Taking full advantage of his government plates, he landed in the first available spot and hopped out, saluting her doorman on his way in before taking the stairs two at a time. He almost used his key, then thought better of it given the razor's edge they had all been on the last few days and settled for an impatient knock.

B&B&B&B&B

Brennan had only just changed out of her day clothes and into something more comfortable when his knock came. Her heart clenched because she'd known that this night would either end in complete silence or in confrontation and she still wasn't sure which she preferred. Now their course was laid in and whatever came next it would start with that knock.

"I know you're in there, Bones," his voice, an odd mixture of patience and stubbornness, reached her. "You've got 'til the count of three to open up before I come in."

There was a moment of utter silence.

"One."

More silence.

"Two."

She vacillated, her heart longing to reach for the knob even as her brain tried to quickly construct a rational against it.

"Thr-"

The door swung open and his jaw went slack.

"Thanks, Bones," he said softly as she stepped aside for him to enter.

"You were coming in anyway," she shrugged, stating the obvious. "This saves me a door and you a sore hip."

"I have this," he dangled the key in front of her.

She bobbed her head in acknowledgment and slight chagrin, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she wondered what the socially appropriate thing to say would be.

"Bones-"

"Booth-"

The words were spoken simultaneously and another awkward pause ensued.

"You followed me," she broke the stalemate and he nodded. "Why, Booth?"

"You know," his eyes probed deeply into hers and even though they were a good six inches apart, they both felt like they were touching.

"I do," she admitted in a small voice.

No words, clever or otherwise, were needed between them and just like they had done so many times before, he stepped slightly forward and she fell into him. His arms wrapped around her fiercely and protectively, yet with a tender softness that underscored how deep his love for her ran.

The careful control she'd been exerting all day collapsed in on her and she buried her head in the familiar scent of his collar. Silent sobs wracked her body and he rode out the pain and confusion with her, rubbing small circles into her back and encouraging her softly to let it all out.

His tender touch only brought more tears, but she remained anchored to him as if unable to pull away. She wasn't sure how long they stood there, though the first thing she noticed as her emotions settled was that the front of his shirt where his jacket was open was soaking wet. The second was that his face had tear tracks as well.

"I hate that you see me like this," she murmured softly. "So weak."

"No," he shook his head, eyes boring into her. "No, you aren't weak. You're one of the strongest people I know. Today, on the stand, you were amazing, Bones!" He cupped her cheek, "I was so proud of you for putting everything out there. We nailed Taffet because _you_ connected with the jury _and_ put Taffet in her place when she tried to trip you up."

She was shaking her head violently, "You, and Angela, and Cam, and Hodgins-"

"We were good, yeah," he agreed, "but you were the one to get the tooth connection and you were the one who drove every one of the forensic parts home. And you showed that jury just how big your heart is."

The energy reserves that she had been pulling from, suddenly felt depleted and Booth steered them both onto her couch before her legs gave out completely. Somewhere along the way her hand had fused itself with his and as they sat down they became aware of it for the first time. Blue-grey eyes queried brown, pupils dilating while desire rose.

As one they moved forward and their lips met in the middle. Her tongue sought his out almost immediately and a frenzied dance began. The small whimper that escaped her, freed his hands to roam freely as he pulled her into his lap. Her hands were in motion now too, slipping his jacket off easily to give her further access to him.

She pulled back abruptly and his heart stopped.

"Wait," her hand on his chest stayed any forward movement. "What about Catherine?"

"We had two dates," he told her with a smile. "But I had to tell her I couldn't see her any more."

"You couldn't?" hope and trepidation laced the question.

"Nope," he was punctuating his words with kisses up and down her neck now, "turns out I'd already forged a social contract with someone else."

"Hmm," she suppressed a moan, trying to stay on topic. "Someone else?"

"Yup," their lips met and separated again, "someone who's got beauty _and_ brains. Not to mentiona soft spot for pigs named Jasper."

"And Christmas trees," she added. "I told Andrew something similar, by the way."

"Good to know," his smirk was large. "Since the contract goes both ways."

"That was my conclusion as well," her voice was low and sultry and her fingers moved to brush his belt buckle.

His hips bucked into her involuntarily and his groan ignited them both as she began outlining the buckle more boldly.

"Like what you see?" he teased, scraping her lips with his teeth.

"Very Boothy," she answered.

The kissing intensified, then settled into a rhythm as their hands continued to roam free. She was the first to liberate him from his shirt and hers followed soon after.

"Beautiful," he breathed, enjoying the view before nestling his head in her bosom.

"You're not so bad yourself," she grinned, tracing his toned, pectoral muscles.

Her fingers stopped short at his shoulder and all motion ceased for a long moment. She pressed a soft kiss up against it before tracing it one last time, then as if of its own accord her hand moved to his scalp and the scar they both knew lay under his well-coiffed locks.

"Four days," she brushed the scar on his shoulder once more before meeting his eyes, "and two weeks."

"Yeah," he traced her jaw lightly with his thumb, unsure of what he should say to that.

"Losing you," she admitted, "is an extremely unpleasant experience for me even though I fully accept death as an anthropological inevitability."

There were a hundred thoughts that sprung to his mind right then, but they seemed inadequate or trite so instead he merely nodded and enfolded her in his embrace; the intimacy of their bare skin connecting not lost on either of them.

From the pile of clothes on the floor a ringtone sounded, shattering the silence.

"Let it go," he told her when she began to shift.

"It's your phone," she pointed out.

"That's what voicemail's for," he smiled. "Besides, I'm a little preoccupied right now." She arched an eyebrow and he continued as the call went to voicemail, "It's true. In fact I predict my lips are about to be _very_ busy."

True to his word, their lips collided once more, only to be interrupted yet again by Booth's insistent phone. For a second time he ignored it, focusing instead on the woman in front of him and how long he had waited to do this with her. The third time his phone rang, he swore and she suggested he answer it as it appeared someone wanted very badly to get a hold of him.

After fishing around for it, he flipped the phone open, keeping an arm around his partner as she stretched herself out on the couch and rested her head on his chest.

"Booth," his chest rumbled in her ear and she could hear the barely veiled irritation in his tone. Almost immediately his body stiffened, "Yes." The voice on the other was too low for her to hear but she could tell that the news was not favorable. "Of course. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He closed the phone mechanically, letting it fall out of his hand and back onto the floor, then encircled her with his arms and held her tightly.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently.

"Pops had a heart attack," the words leaked out of him as if he still didn't quite believe them. "I'm his medical proxy so they called me."

"Is he-" she couldn't finish the question and risk the pain it might cause him.

"No," Booth sniffed, shaking his head and sitting them up; his grip on her remaining firm. "Well, not when they put him in the ambulance at least. He's on his way to the hospital now."

"You need to go," her voice was firm, but soft.

He nodded reluctantly and looked up at her, "Come with me?"


	2. Shrimp on the Barbie

Chapter 2: Shrimp on the Barbie

_She's never forgotten the words shared in confidence between she and his grandfather. Of course she had known about the abuse before but somehow, hearing someone else describe what they had witnessed made the mental image all that more horrifying and she had several disturbing dreams regarding it for some time. In the months that have passed, she has also made time to visit Hank and play dominoes with him(Booth doesn't know this), so the decision to go with him was not a difficult one._

Soft jazz music filled the cab in direct opposition to the worry that churned in Booth's gut as they sped toward the hospital. Brennan had insisted that it would help calm his nerves and while he had to admit he was calmer than he had been when he'd first gotten the call, he knew it had more to do with her company than her music.

It was one o'clock in the morning before he pulled into the parking lot and made his way through the maze of buildings to a spot outside the ER where Pops had been taken. He drew in a deep breath and released it before shutting the engine off.

"Bones," he shook her gently. "Bones, wake up."

"Mmm," she shook him off in her sleep and turned away from him.

"Come on, Bones," he said just a little bit louder. "We're here. You gotta get up."

He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. She yawned, opening one eye and then the next before turning to face him, their lips only inches apart. Between the two of them they closed the gap and enjoyed a brief kiss.

"We should go," she pulled back suddenly, as if remembering why they had come in the first place.

Sobering at the thought, he nodded and they got out and headed toward the building. The closer they got, the more nervous he became and he was never more grateful when she slipped her arm in his, offering her silent support.

"May I help you?" a balding man with hawk-like features and possibly the world's worst comb-over asked at the admissions desk.

"We're here for my Pops," Booth explained, his voice thickening with more emotion than he was comfortable with. "He- they said he had a heart attack and they were bringing him here. Can we see him?"

"Um, Mr.-" the man paused as if waiting for something.

"Booth," Brennan chimed in from beside him, fully awake and aware of her partner's feelings, "Seeley Booth. His grandfather is Hank Booth and Boo- _Seeley_ is his medical proxy. We spoke with the Willow Springs nursing facility staff over an hour ago but they were unable to appraise us of his condition."

"Ah," the man nodded, understandingly, as his fingers flew over the keyboard in front of him. "Do you have identification?"

Brennan nudged Booth in the ribs and he fumbled for his badge and ID. Satisfied, the little man nodded again and continued his computer work.

"Okay," he said after what felt like an eternity to Booth, "he's still in the ER. If you and your wife just go through those doors and down the hall, you'll find him in room 104."

Again it was Brennan who answered, thanking the man for his help and steering Booth toward the double doors. Booth wished he had asked what condition Pops was in and if he had been seen by a doctor yet, and as they drew closer to the room, his own heart grew heavier. Numbly, he passed by all of the other patients until they found themselves outside the door to room 104.

"Go on," she urged, pulling away from him for the first time. "I'll be right behind you."

Swallowing a lump of fear, his arm already feeling the loss of her warmth, he gave a curt nod and slowly opened the door.

"Shrimp!" a very alive Pops exclaimed. "What are you doing here? You look like hell."

"They called," Booth hurried over to the bed. "Said you had a heart attack. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Pops waved a dismissive hand. "These kid doctors always exaggerate things, you know. Now, why is that pretty _partner_ of yours standing out in the hall? Didn't I teach you to treat a woman better than that?"

"Hello, Hank," the woman in question smiled, breezing into the room to stand beside both Booth men. "I'm relieved to see that you are alert and in good spirits."

The older man sat up as far as the wires and IV he was attached to would allow him and extended an arm to her, pulling her into a hug and planting a rough kiss on her cheek.

"It's good to see you too, Sweetheart, and that's enough about me. Has this grandson of mine finally come clean to you?"

"Pops!" Booth complained.

"He has!" Pops crowed, delight wrinkling his face.

"We are," she paused and looked back at Booth for a long moment, "currently investigating the feasibility of expanding the boundaries of our partnership beyond the strictly platonic and have tentatively agreed that a social contract exists between us."

"Social contract, eh?" the old man winked at his grandson. "That what you kids call it these days?"

"Well, um-" Booth stumbled over his reply, trying to decode exactly what Brennan had just said.

"Works for me," Pops smiled, then smirked. "Though that lipstick just isn't your color, Shrimp."

Booth took a furtive swipe at his lips, cheeks flaming.

"He's teasing you," Brennan said, clearly amused. "I'm not wearing lipstick, though your reaction is rather humorous."

"Hilarious," Booth groused, though he was smiling in spite of himself.

"So will this social contract of yours get me a new grandaughter-in-law any time soon?" Pops questioned Brennan. "Jared's getting married in a month, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, we know, Pops," Booth jumped in before she had a chance to answer, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Me and Bones are gonna take things slow for now. One step at a time."

"Slow?" the older Booth looked between the pair incredulously, then pointed at Brennan while looking at his grandson. "This _is_ the same girl you came home mooning over six years ago, isn't it? The same _Bones_ you moped over like a lovesick teenager because she was _the One_?"

Booth willed the floor to open up and swallow him, but it was as firm as always, and now he had two highly curious pairs of eyes pinned on him. "Well, yeah, Pops, but-"

"But nothing," Booth was interrupted, "I swear, Shrimp, if you move any slower you'll be my age before you get any more kids."

"While I don't doubt that Booth's sperm motility will be quite good at that age given its current state," Brennan said earnestly, "it would be highly unlikey for me to be impregnated so late in life. Not to mention it would be highly dangerous."

Booth was moaning about her talking about his sperm motility, but Pops wasn't phased at all.

"You're lucky I'm not younger or I'd give you a run for your money, Seeley boy," Pops chuckled before turning to address Brennan seriously. "You remember what I told you, right, Temperance?" He waited for her small nod before continuing, "Good. You can't spend your life wondering if things will fall apart before you give them a chance. Just take the plunge and give it all you've got. No regrets."

"No regrets," she repeated, contemplating what he was trying to convey to her. The last forty-eight hours had been rife with emotional turmoil and once again, she felt herself on the brink of losing her composure. "Would you mind if I stepped outside for a moment?" she excused herself.

"Take your time," Hank said with a gentle touch to her forearm. "We'll be here when you come back."

Booth reached out to squeeze her hand and she squeezed back with a look that assured him she wasn't running, she just needed some time _and _space.

"How long has she known you love her?" Pops asked when the door clicked shut behind her.

"A few weeks," Booth admitted, collapsing on the hard plastic chair beside the bed and rubbing the back of his neck. "She didn't exactly take it so well at first."

Pops nodded, unsurprised, "Your grandmother turned me down at least a dozen times before she finally gave me a shot. Didn't stop me from trying."

"I don't wanna manipulate her, Pops," he shook his head.

"Seeley Joseph Booth, do you honestly think you can _make_ that woman do anything? Because if you do you've got an even bigger mess than you realize."

Booth laughed wryly, offering the older man a small salute. "Touche. Bones is her own woman."

"Damn straight," Pops huffed. "And if you've got any shred of common sense the Good Lord gave you, you'll stop worrying about saying the wrong thing and _talk_ to her. That's one woman who's not gonna care if you give her the straight dump. She's strong enough for it."

"She almost bolted today," Booth admitted in a small voice. "Things have been awkward between us since, well, since I told her how I felt. We just closed a tough case and I could see in her eyes that she was ready to throw away everything. She even got in a cab and drove away from me. I- I went after her."

"And obviously she took that just fine since you two were still together at midnight when you got the call about me," Pops pointed out.

There was a light knock on the door, but instead of Brennan, it was the doctor. Booth rose to meet him and the two shook hands. He explained that Pops had indeed suffered a minor heart attack and that they would be moving him to another room and keeping him overnight for observation. They would run more tests in the morning before they cleared him.

Brennan reentered the room silently as the doctor went over the more technical aspects of what Pops had been through, slipping her arm once again around Booth's. She asked a few questions about the treatment options available and what tests would be performed until she seemed satisfied with the answers she was given.

"If you and your wife have any more questions, don't hesitate to ask," Dr. Lehman concluded, looking puzzled when his charge gave a snort of amusement. "The nurses should be in shortly to move you, Hank."

The partners thanked him, not bothering to correct his assumption, and the three of them were left alone once more.

"Go," Pops insisted before either one of them could say anything. He turned to Brennan. "Find a bed somewhere and make him sleep. I'll be here in the morning when you're rested."

The two Booth men exchanged a heartfelt hug, pulling Brennan into it with them. Goodbyes were sniffed along with promises that they would be back in the morning and were just as quickly told that he was not at death's door and they should take their time if they needed to.

There was a Holiday Inn they'd passed not far from the hospital and they drove there in relative silence. When they got to the front desk, Brennan took over right away; requesting one room and handing over her credit card before he could do anything. Too tired to argue, he palmed the key-cards, put his hand at the base of her back for the first time in what seemed like forever, and guided her to their room.

This time it was he who fell into her embrace, pouring all of his tension and worry and relief into a series of kisses that left both of them panting, along with another puddle of clothes on the floor. Mutually exhausted, they left the last few pieces of clothing they wore alone and crawled under the covers together. She folded herself into him, allowing him to clutch her tightly, and within no time they fell fast asleep.


	3. Wakey, Wakey

Chapter 3:

_ The thing that they've never admitted to anyone is how much they each enjoy undercover missions. For her, it's a chance to immerse herself in a role and feel free from the constant need to be fully rational. For him, it's a time when he can let down his guard and let some of his real feelings for her leak out. And whenever it happens- and they end up having to share a room or a bed- they both wonder what it would have been like if he had gotten in that cab._

B&B&B&B&B&B

Brennan was the first one to awaken the next morning and was satisfied to discover herself safely ensconced in Booth's arms. It was also the first night since Heather Taffet's trial had begun that she had enjoyed a good night's rest, despite the late hour that they had arrived. In truth it had not been much later than some of the nights she and Booth stayed up doing paperwork.

"It is WAY too early for you to be thinking as hard as you look like you're thinking," a gravelly voice interrupted her musings.

"I'm not thinking hard," she assured him, "and it is not particularly early."

"Uh huh," he ignored her, tightening his hold on her waist and inhaling deeply into her hair. "You smell comfy."

"Comfort is not a smell," she wrinkled her nose, turning in his arms to face him.

"Says you."

"Says science. Did you know-"

Her words were cut short by his lips and while it stunned her at first, she caught up quickly, slipping her tongue in and out of his mouth. The longer the kiss went on the more ground their hands covered, reminding them just how few clothes they had gone to bed with.

"Hey," he said in between kisses, pulling back ever so slightly but keeping his arms around her to hold her close, "much as I want to do this, Bones, I do _not_ want our first time to be on a crappy mattress in a random hotel."

"You started it," she pouted, rubbing her foot down the length of his leg.

"Oh, don't worry," he assured her. "I'll finish it once we get back to DC. Just not here."

"Fine," she rolled her eyes as she disentangled herself from him and got out of bed.

"Where ya going, Bones?" he asked, openly admiring the view as she stood up.

"To shower and dress," she informed him, then smirked. "Why don't you exercise your alpha male tendencies and go foraging for breakfast food for us? It's close to nine o'clock and we should probably go back to the hospital."

"Or I could stay here and shower with you," he pointed out, waggling his eyebrows.

"In my experience, showering with the opposite sex almost invariably leads to sex and you've placed a moratorium on that until we return home, so I believe my answer is no," she turned around and he could swear she was sauntering into the bathroom, then gave him one last, triumphant smirk before closing the bathroom door between them.

They both knew that there was nothing keeping him from joining her, but at the same time he had to admit that she had a point and he'd waited long enough for her he figured he could hold off just a little while longer. The bed creaked underneath him when he stood, redoubling his resolve that this would _not_ be the first bed they made love in.

His stomach rumbled as steam began coming out from under the door to the bathroom and he decided he would take her up on her suggestion before he lost his resolve fully. A pamphlet on the bedside table assured him that a complimentary breakfast would be served until ten and there was a small percolator complete with small packs of decaf and regular grounds. He got the coffee going, then headed out in search of food.

B&B&B&B&B&B

She had to admit she was slightly disappointed that he didn't follow her in, but it was so very _Boothy_ of him she wasn't offended. A chuckle escaped her as she stood underneath of the warm water as she thought of her partner and his gallant little quirks. Most of the time she still felt them to be silly and outdated, yet over the years she had come to anticipate certain behaviors from him.

It was not until after his surgery, she mused, that she realized just how much she missed certain behaviors when they were not present. She had grown so concerned, in fact, that she had compiled a list of the changes and reported them to Sweets just to be sure they weren't indications of a deeper problem. The sense of relief that had come when Booth's habits returned was immeasurable.

Deciding that the polite thing to do would be to leave some hot water for her partner, she cut her shower shorter than she would have at home and toweled off. It was only after she was done that she realized that she had inadvertently left the small bag of clean clothes she had brought with them in the SUV.

"Booth!" she called into the room, shutting the small exhaust fan off so that she could be heard.

There was no reply, so she called again. When there was still no reply, she cracked the door open, only to realize he must have taken her up on the suggestion to get breakfast. The scent of freshly brewed coffee was tantalizing, so she wrapped the towel around her securely and went to get herself a cup.

Not more than a minute later, there was a loud knocking on the door, followed by Booth bellowing at her to open it for him. Apparently, he had forgotten to take his key card with him.

"Thanks, Bones," he said before she had the door half open. "I- What are you wearing?"

She hid a smile as he hurried her away from the open door and closed it quickly behind him.

"My bag is in the SUV," she explained as he started to protest.

He dumped the assortment of breakfast foods he had collected unceremoniously on the table beside the percolator, snatched up his keys and a key card, then told her not to open the door for anyone else. She wondered who else he thought she would open the door for but decided not to vocalize it and simply nodded and waved him off.

As there was no other furniture, she took her breakfast selections over to the bed and began eating. The pastries were slightly stale from sitting out all morning, but Booth had also gotten fresh fruit and it was very good. This time, Booth knocked again, letting her know it was him, then let himself in.

"Thanks," she smiled appreciatively, standing to take the outstretched bag from him. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

Booth, however, was staring at her, mouth slightly agape, and she realized that her towel had slipped down slightly when she stood.

"I'm gonna go- you know- uh- shower and stuff," he said hurriedly, heading for the bathroom.

She laughed at him, but waited until the door was closed between them to release her towel the rest of the way and get dressed.

B&B&B&B&B

He probably would've used the cold water if he hadn't really needed to clean up, but a small groan escaped as he realized just how hard it was going to be to keep his hands off of her this morning. Sure, she'd taken to wearing some pretty low cut blouses lately, but _nothing_ that low. Plus it didn't help that there was nothing separating the rest of her body from his eyes but the little hotel towel.

He was trying desperately not to think about the miles of legs that the towel had showcased too, when the door opened.

"Bones," he called, knowing full well she was now in the bathroom, just on the other side of the flimsy shower curtain from him.

"What?" she asked, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to be there.

"Um, I thought you said no group showers?"

"I did," she said, "however, you will note that we are not in the shower together."

She had him there and he could hear her rustling things around by the sink.

"There's no mirror in the other room," she explained. "Why, is my presence making you uncomfortable?"

Her presence was making him horny but he wasn't about to give out that little tidbit so he denied it altogether instead.

"Honestly, Booth," she sighed, "it's not as if I haven't seen you naked before."

"Yeah, Bones, I'm starting to think you _like_ barging in on me in the bathroom," he teased. "Maybe we need to ask Sweets about that when we get back..."

"Your phone's ringing," she informed him as the sound filled the little room. "Would you like me to answer it?"

"Who is it?" he asked, shutting the water down and shaking the excess out of his hair.

"Rebecca."

"Better let me get that," he decided.

A dry towel was handed to him through the small gap between the curtain and the shower's wall, followed quickly by his phone.

"Booth," he managed, flipping it open just before his voicemail kicked in.

He listened with half an ear as Becca told him that some huge case had been dumped in her lap all of a sudden and she was wondering if he could take Parker for the rest of the weekend. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her what was going on with Pops, but then she promised that he could have Parker next weekend too, just like they had planned.

Ever since his coma, Becca had really gone out of her way to make sure Booth got more time with Parker, and despite everything else that was going on, he couldn't turn down the chance to spend two weekends in a row with his son. He explained that he was an hour away, but promised to pick Parker up at her office as soon as possible.

Without thinking, he opened the shower curtain and stepped out after hanging up, belatedly thanking as many saints as he could name that Bones had left the bathroom at some point during his conversation.

B&B&B&B&B

While she had no problem whatsoever invading Booth's privacy while he showered- she had in fact enjoyed torturing him quite a bit- when it came to matters of his family, she was willing to give him his space. With one final look in the mirror, she quietly left him alone and began collecting their things and cleaning up.

Given the time of day, and the fact that it was a non-custodial weekend for Booth, she could only guess that Rebecca would be requesting Booth's presence in DC as soon as possible to care for Parker. In Brennan's mind, this brought up the question of how and when they would inform the young boy of the change in their relationship status.

For that matter, it brought up the issue of what their status truly was.

"Coffee?" she offered when he finally emerged, enjoying that he had chosen to walk out with only his jeans on.

"Thanks," he smiled, then smirked. "Like what you see, Bones?"

"I always have," she confessed, leaving the cup in his hand so that hers was free to trace a light line down his abs. "I see that your exercise regimen is yielding results now."

"Yup," he nodded proudly, "the docs finally cleared me to go back to my old routine, so I can start putting some meat back on these bones."

"Mmm," she teased, admiring him openly. "This Bones is very thankful for that."

"Clever," he said around a mouthful of cheese danish.

"When do we need to leave to pick Parker up?" she asked as he finished eating and put his shirt back on.

"As soon as we can, I guess," he frowned. "And we should probably swing by the hospital and tell Pops what's going on."

"I was thinking about that," she told him as they gathered up their few belongings and headed for the check-out desk. "Perhaps you could drop _me_ off at the hospital to stay with Hank, while you go and collect Parker?"

"Really, Bones? You'd do that?" he seemed surprised.

"Of course," she nodded earnestly. "I enjoy your grandfather's company and I'm sure you would do the same for me were our situations reversed."

"Yeah," his lips turned up at the corners and he captured her hand in his, linking their fingers together as they walked, "I would."


	4. The Booth Boys

Chapter 4: The Booth Boys

She wouldn't let him do anything more than drop her off at the main entrance, reminding him that she was more than capable of apprising Pops of the change in plans. He really did need to get on his way so he let her go with a swift goodbye kiss and an assurance that she had her cell with her.

Satisfied, he watched until the hospital doors swallowed her up before he drove away. Alone with his thoughts for the first time since he'd charged after her taxi last night, he marveled at the difference a day could make. It probably shouldn't have surprised him after so many years of watching her, but the speed at which she adapted to change once she put her mind to something was still mind-boggling to him.

All of the turmoil that had been just barely under her control this week had dissipated with her tears last night. The two of them had also shifted from barely touching each other since his declaration at the Hoover, to practically devouring one another. And she was ogling him openly and flirting with him too in her own awkward way.

And it wasn't just him that she had opened her heart up to, it was his family as well. He'd never been more shocked when she'd offered to keep Pops company while Booth went to get Parker. There was no one else he could think of whom he would entrust with that job, and no one else who would be better at understanding the medical side of things too.

It was eleven-thirty when he pulled up to Rebecca's law office and collected Parker, and after a quick pit stop at Booth's apartment to change clothes and grab some extra ones, they got back on the road. Gently, Booth broke the news about Pops' heart attack and that they were on their way to visit him in the hospital. He had just finished when Bones called with an update, letting him know that Pops' vitals had been stable all night and that the doctor was comfortable enough with the test results to release Pops back to the nursing home.

"Are we still going to visit him?" Parker wondered once Booth gave him the update.

"Yup," Booth confirmed. "For one thing, we have to pick up Bones anyway, and for another, Pops was excited when she told him that you were coming with me. Plus we have to take him back to the home."

Parker contemplated this for a moment, "I like Pops. But why's he so old? I mean, Grandpa Stinson's older than you and Mom but not _that_ old."

"Well," Booth said carefully, "Pops isn't my dad, Parker, he's my grandpa."

"So he's really my great-grandpa?"

"You got it."

Again, Parker lapsed into silence and Booth prayed hard that he would move onto the next topic because he still wasn't sure how to explain why he and Jared had gone to live with Pops in the first place. He knew that one of these days he would have to tell Parker about his own dad, but he really didn't want it to be today.

"Why's Bones there?" was the question his son picked next, to his relief.

"She was with me when I got the call about Pops and she offered to go with me," Booth smiled, having rehearsed this particular answer. "Plus she and Pops are friends too."

"Bones likes all of us Booth men," Parker declared.

"She sure does, buddy."

"That reminds me," the young boy said, "there's something I want to talk to you about."

Trying not to laugh at the very serious tone, Booth managed, "What's on your mind?"

"Well," he opened, "I've been thinking about this for a while and I know that you said that Bones can't be your girlfriend because you're partners, but that's just not right. Dad," he continued, not letting Booth cut in, "you love Bones and I'm pretty sure she loves you because she looks at you the way girls do when they're in love and she was really sad when you didn't wake up after your surgery like you were supposed to.

"And Dr. Saroyan was your girlfriend before, right? And you guys worked together then? So you and Bones could _totally_ date."

Parker stopped abruptly and the cab echoed with the silence.

"You're right," Booth admitted finally.

Parker's head shot up, "I am?"

"Yup," he nodded, "you are."

"So are you gonna ask her to be your girlfriend?"

"I already did," Booth considered his next words carefully. "That's why I was over at her place last night. It's kind of complicated, but we talked about it and have decided to give it a shot."

"Good," Parker nodded curtly, as if anything less would have been unacceptable. "I also think you should get married because you always say that that's what people in love do. But you should probably take her on a date first."

"Probably," Booth chuckled his agreement. "Any suggestions for the perfect first date, Park-o?"

"Nope," came the reply. "Jeez, Dad, it's not like I can think of _everything_!"

Mission accomplished, Parker spent the rest of the trip buried in his DS, coming up only once or twice to ask if they were almost there. Booth spent the quiet time wondering just how long his son had spent devising his little argument. It touched him that his son felt so strongly about the woman he loved, though he really hoped that the kiddo wouldn't bring up the whole marriage thing to Bones just yet.

B&B&B&B&B&B

The first stop Brennan made before going in search of Hank's room was at the small gift shop in the lobby. It took her a few minutes, but she eventually located what she was looking for and made her purchase. That finished, she found a directory kiosk and wove her way through the labyrinthine halls toward the cardiac wing.

"Excuse me," Brennan called to the harried nurse at the wing's front desk, "I'm looking for Hank Booth's room please."

"And you are?" the woman barked.

"Mrs. Booth!" Dr. Lehman from the night before called just as she was about to reply. "You must be here to see Hank?" She nodded, but didn't have time to correct him about her name when he continued, "I'm in the middle of rounds right now, but Belinda can point you in the right direction and I'll be back to chat with you two shortly."

Belinda- who seemed much more congenial now that she thought Brennan was a family member- provided her with Hank's room number and directions on how to get there. Brennan left the nurse and made her way quickly back to the room before any further misunderstandings could arise.

"Temperance!" a much haler looking Hank called from his bed as she entered, stretching out his arms to her. "It's good to see you!"

"And you," she replied sincerely, returning his embrace with equal vigor. "Though I'm not certain I would've been permitted access to you had the doctor not been operating under the erroneous presumption that I'm Booth's wife."

"We can fix that later," Hank said with a twinkle in his eye. "I want you here, so don't you worry about a thing."

"Dr. Lehman assured me he would be back to see you soon," she informed him.

Hank let out a hearty laugh. "In my experience, that's doctor-speak for sometime in the next few hours. Now, since we have plenty of time, why don't you take a seat and tell me where that ugly grandson of mine ran off to?"

She sat in the chair beside the bed, and after assuring him that Booth's features were in no way unpleasant to look at, she relayed the information about Rebecca. The elder Booth smiled widely when she informed him that Parker would be coming back with his father. Hank then proceeded to vent his frustrations concerning Rebecca and the lack of a custody arrangement between she and Booth. Brennan assured him that things were more consistent since Booth's operation.

This prompted a small tirade on the stubbornness of one Seeley Joseph Booth, who had apparently waited until several months after the fact to inform Hank about his tumor, because on Hank's own heart problems that occurred around that same time. He was also displeased with Jared, as the younger Booth brother helped maintain the subterfuge.

"Those boys," Hank shook his head as if he was upset with them, though his pride in them both was evident in his voice. "They're about as close as brothers can get." He held up a hand at her small frown, "Oh, I know Jared comes off as selfish and acts like he doesn't respect Seeley; and Seeley acts like Jared is a pesky annoyance who couldn't tie his shoes right if he tried, but..."

Hank trailed off for a long moment, staring upward with eyes closed before he turned his entire body toward her and met her eyes.

"For months after I brought them to live with me, they slept together. First in the same bed, then the same room. My wife and I could barely peel Jared away from Seeley long enough for them to both go to school and we could tell that Jared was one scared little kid. Of course, it's not like we had a shrink around to tell us that what our son had done to them inside- to their spirits, I mean- would last way beyond when the last bruise faded.

"So we did the best we could and let them keep on that way until eventually, Seeley got too overprotective, and Jared rebelled, and we were left with the fallout. I know to this day Seeley thinks he should've done more to shield Jared from the abuse and Jared feels like he owes Seeley so much that he'll never measure up, and he lashes out from time to time, but they are both good, loyal men. They both have their vices, but they are both working on them now."

"You must be very proud," she was unsure of what else she should say.

"I am," a smile lit his eyes, reminding her of Booth's when they twinkled. "I was never more proud of Jared when I got the truth out of them about what went down with that Grave Digger woman and I told him so. _That's _how loyal my boys are."

"Yesterday she was convicted for her crimes," Brennan was pleased to inform him.

"I'm sure you had a hand in that," Hank said knowingly.

"Booth, and I, and our team all contributed," she answered honestly. "It was very much a group effort."

"Well thank you all the same," he replied, clasping her hand.

No further exchange was possible as Dr. Lehman arrived. He checked Hank's vitals, went over the test results with them, and concluded that the nursing home could easily provide the follow-up care that was required.

Hank watched as the brilliant woman his grandson had fallen in love with paid close attention to every word the doc was telling them. The poor kid hadn't been finished 30 seconds before Temperance began her barrage of questions; though to his credit, he fielded them well enough.

"Do you understand, Hank?" she turned her attention to him. "It's very important for you to take responsibility in your diet and exercise regimen, as well as remembering to take your medications."

"Yeah, yeah, more pills and rabbit food and less sitting in front of the TV," he nodded, not bothering to hide the sigh.

As if sensing his resignation, she came very close, took his hand in her own, and spoke as if he were the only person on the planet.

"I realize that this may seem like a hassle to you, but if you continue to disregard your personal health care you will die sooner. You might not even live long enough to attend Jared's wedding."

She was good, he thought as she continued listing the ways his family needed him. His Ellie would've loved her- they would've been dangerous together. Seeley couldn't have chosen any better for himself if he tried and Hank added _their_ wedding to the list of things he wanted to witness on top of the list she was giving him.

"Alright. Alright. I'll behave," he grinned at her when she paused for a breath. He winked at Doogie Howser, "Ovaries of Steel, this one. Got anything else for me, Doc?"

The kid said something about getting his discharge papers going and sending the nursing home Hank's care instructions. Temperance assured him that she and Booth would take Hank back to the home, and the doctor took his leave.

"I should call Booth," she said when they were alone.

"Go ahead," he waved her off. "I'm not going anywhere."

She stepped out for a few minutes and returned looking just a little happier than she had before.

"I almost forgot," Temperance smiled mischievously. "I got you something!"

She handed him a bag from the hospital gift shop and waited eagerly for him to open it. With a soft thud, the contents plopped into his lap and a wide smile spread across his face.

"I'm fairly confident I can beat you, this time," she boasted, wheeling the portable table between them and adjusting the height so that they could both reach it.

Hank broke the seal on the box and the dominoes clattered out.

"I don't think so."


	5. A Day Well Spent

Chapter 5: A Day Well Spent

As it turned out, she _did_ beat him, and then he beat her, and they were halfway through the tiebreaker when they were interrupted by 80 pounds of flying boy.

"Pops!" dominoes scattered as Parker's elbow hit the wheeled table.

"Squirt!" the older man returned with equal enthusiasm. "I swear you grow a foot every time I see you!"

"Nah," Parker shook his head. "I don't even have armpit hair yet."

"Maybe next time," Hank winked, then looked to the boy's father. "How's that chest hair of yours coming, Shrimp?"

"Ha, ha," Booth intoned, slipping an arm around Brennan's waist as he came and stood beside her. "Besides, I have it on good authority that that means I'm just more highly evolved."

"I thought you said that Evolution is bunk because God made everything, Dad?" Parker sounded confused.

Brennan's jaw was agape at this revelation, but before she could recover, Booth increased his grip on her and deflected.

"So, when can we break you outta here, Pops?"

"As soon as we get this mess picked up," Hank replied. "The hospital cleared me a half hour ago."

Of course, Hank also needed to change into his street clothes, so while Booth helped him with that, Brennan took Parker in search of a soda machine. Fifteen minutes and a few nurses and hospital forms later, Parker and Hank were in the back seat of the SUV and Booth and Brennan were in the front.

This is not the way to the nursing home," Brennan remarked as they turned off of the highway and began winding through back roads.

"Nope," Booth said calmly.

"We planned a surprised," Parker was almost literally jumping out of his seat with excitement.

"But I promised Dr. Lehman we would see Hank safely home," Brennan protested.

"It's okay, Bones," Booth assured her. "Don't you trust me?"

She rolled her eyes at that and proceeded to stare out her window.

"They do this _all_ the time," Parker confided loudly in Hank.

"The best ones always do," Hank winked at the boy. "Keeps life interesting."

Parker frowned, trying to understand, then his face cleared and he exclaimed, "We're here!"

Sure enough, they turned into a local park and found a space right beside a picnic grove. Benches, tables, trees, and barbecue grills littered the site, around a wide, rippling pond. Wildflowers dotted the emerald green of the grass with bursts of color along a dirt path that encircled the pond.

Parker bounded out of the car and around to the back, managing to open the doors with a Herculean effort.

"I'll get that, Pal," Booth took the loaded cooler Parker was attempting to lift. "Why don't you and Pops go pick out a place for us to set up?"

With a wide grin, Parker abandoned the cooler and began dragging his great-grandfather toward the first table that caught his eye.

"A picnic lunch?" Brennan arched an eyebrow as she took the bag of charcoal briquettes from the trunk.

"We gotta eat," he replied teasingly, snatching the bag from her hand and pulling her to him in one smooth motion. "Now, I don't think I got to properly greet you."

"You didn't?" her confusion melted as he placed his hand on her cheek and laid a soft, tender kiss on her lips.

She accepted, then deepened it as he moved to pull away. A round of applause from their two spectators caused them to jump apart quickly, reddening slightly.

"We better go," Booth muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he waved off Hank and Parker.

"I concur," she replied in the same low voice. "Though that greeting was rather stimulating."

"Bones," he hissed as he turned back to the SUV to pick up the cooler, "you can't be using words like that with my kid around!"

"Stimulation is not necessarily a sexual word, Booth," she lectured, rolling her eyes as she picked her bag back up. "It has many applications and in this instance it refers to the positive emotions I have associated with kissing you."

"I liked it too, Bones," he smiled.

"Are you two _ever_ coming?" Parker yelled from the picnic table.

Brennan threw back her head, releasing a full-bodied laugh, then began walking toward the table. Booth was right behind her and immediately began unloading the cooler's contents when they reached their destination; narrating as he went.

"And for you, Bones," he proclaimed with flourish, "veggie burgers!"

She smiled her thanks, watching with interest as he began preparing the food. It struck her that it wasn't just her that he had purchased specific foods for. He had gotten hot dogs for Parker, chicken for Hank, and a thick hamburger for himself. It touched her to realize the depth of thought he'd put into what appeared on the outset to be a simple lunch.

Soon all of the meats were cooking on the small grill under Booth's careful watch, while Parker helped Hank and Brennan set the table and lay out the rest of the food. When everything was ready, Booth led them in a short prayer of thanks for the food and Hank's health. Good-natured banter and conversation abounded as they ate and as soon as they finished, Parker begged to be allowed to play at the adjoining playground. Booth approved, but cautioned him that they wouldn't be able to stay long.

Brennan volunteered to accompany Parker, leaving the two older Booth men some time to themselves.

"You feeling okay, Pops?" Booth met his grandfather's eyes. "Really?"

For a moment it looked like he was going to deny it, then his shoulders slumped and he shrugged, "Guess I pulled through this time."

"Yeah," came the quiet response.

They worked side by side, cleaning up the remnants of the meal, both appreciating the time they had together.

"Seeley," Hank started, then shook his head. "Look, I could sugar-coat this whole thing for you, but the fact of the matter is this body of mine is old and it's starting to break down on me. Now," he held up a hand at the look of alarm on the younger man's face, "that doesn't mean I'm gonna go this week, or month, or even this year. Sooner or later, though, it'll happen.

"I don't wanna talk about that any more," he said in a voice that brooked no opposition. "Let's talk about this girl of your."

Task finished, they sat back down at the table, watching Brennan and Parker chase each other around the small playground. She caught sight of them watching and waved with a wide smile. They both waved back.

"It's still kinda surreal," Booth admitted. "Any second I expect her to push me away and jet off to some unpronounceable country."

"She loves you," Hank said with a surety that Booth wished he felt. "She might not always say it quite the way you do, but she does. I saw that when I was at your place. Did you know she called to invite me to a little Christmas shindig of hers? We couldn't make it work out, but she asked all the same."

"She likes you," Booth pointed out.

"Believe me, _you_ were the only Booth on her mind when she called me," he assured his grandson."She wants this thing with you as much as you do with her."

Booth let out a long breath, still staring at her, "Sometimes I feel like I'm just making this all up as we go along. I mean, I want to show her all of the good stuff that comes with love, not all the hurt, and I want her to see that this _thing_ that we've had for the last six years is enough to last a lifetime."

"But?" the old man prodded.

"But this is Bones," he rubbed his hands along the back of his neck, nervously, "and she's all about science, and body chemistry, and anthropological inevitabilities. Not to mention, all I've heard for the last five years is how marriage is an antiquated ritual and love is ephemeral. She bolted the first time I told her I wanted to make a go of this."

"So you said," Hank acknowledged, then chucked a thumb at the playground. "She's here now, though. And it seems to me if you both go into this thing thinking that eventually it'll end, then it will. Look, I know that she's not your average woman, but she _is_ a woman. Just turn on that irresistible charm I know you've got and show her that other men might've failed her but Booth men love for life."

"Thanks, Pops."

"Just don't make me wait forever for your wedding," the other Booth answered slyly.

They exchanged a smile and sat in companionable silence until Booth felt it was time to get going. Parker put up a little bit of a protest, which Brennan reproved, and Booth curtailed by promising they could come again with Pops the next weekend.

The late afternoon sun was glaring as they dropped Hank off at the nursing home with several heartfelt hugs and promises that they would all be back in a week. When they returned to DC, Brennan insisted that father and son drop her off at her apartment, citing unfinished housework that needed to be finished. With a quick kiss from Booth and a hug from Parker, she gathered up her things and waved goodbye to them.

Once inside, she took stock of her surroundings. The air was slightly stale so she opened the windows and began clearing out the stacks of takeout containers that had amassed over the course of the last week in her fridge. She managed to find enough good food for a light dinner, then afterwords continued on her cleaning spree.

A smile crossed her lips when she found Booth's undershirt in-between two of her couch cushions, but she folded it neatly and carried on. Eventually, the apartment was back to its usual tidy state, the laundry was half-finished, her lab paperwork was in order for Monday, and she was free for some leisure activity. Taking her laptop back to her bedroom, she changed into more comfortable clothes, and sat down on her bed to catch up on her email correspondence.

She was deeply engrossed in an intriguing letter from a colleague when she jumped at the sound of her phone ringing in the stillness of the apartment.

"Brennan," she answered absent-mindedly.

"Hey, Bones," a familiar voice on the other end greeted her. "Am I calling too late?"

It was only then she realized it was already eleven, and she began shutting down her computer, while attempting to remain focused on the conversation, "No. I'm still awake. I presume Parker is in bed?"

"Yeah, he went down tough tonight," she could hear the smile in his voice. "Probably exhausted from being chased around by a certain forensic anthropologist."

The laptop screen went dark and she snapped the lid shut, "I enjoyed the exercise; however, at the time, his energy seemed boundless."

"That's a kid for ya," he chuckled."So whatcha doing? Anything fun?"

Details on their respective evenings were exchanged and they made plans to meet at the diner for lunch after he and Parker went to Mass. He also invited her to come over to his apartment and spend the rest of the afternoon with them and while she was reluctant to do so, having infringed on their time so much already, he was insistent and in the end she was unable to refuse.

Conversation shifted to Hank and his health, and then society's treatment of the elderly in general. She was pleasantly surprised to find they shared very similar views on that area, though she supposed that such a respectful attitude was only natural for someone who had been raised by their grandparents. Booth also surprised her by sharing a few anecdotes about his grandmother; a woman she could not recall him ever mentioning before. By the way he spoke she could tell that Booth his "Nan" in high esteem, every bit as much as he did Hank.

"Booth," she yawned, consulting her bedside clock, "it's nearly one in the morning and you need to get up for Mass."

"Yeah," she could hear the fatigue in his voice now. "I miss you."

It was irrational, considering it had not been that long since they had seen one another, and the fact that they'd been on the phone for the past two hours, but a part of her that she was not sure she was ready to acknowledge, understood what he was talking about.

"I-" she hesitated for a moment, then decided that of all people she could be completely honest with Booth, "I miss you as well; though it won't be long until we see each other again."

"Ten hours, fifty-six minutes," he said almost immediately."Long enough."

"You could come over for breakfast on your way," she offered impulsively.

"Sure," there was an eagerness in his voice that warmed her. "Can't be anything fancy, 'cause Mass starts at ten, but how about we bring the donuts and you make the coffee?"

"Okay," she agreed, then laughed. "Isn't Parker a little young for coffee?"

"Oh, I just put lots of milk and sugar and stuff in for him and he's good," Booth explained. "Better make it decaf for him, though, so he's not on a caffeine buzz during church."

They both laughed at that thought, then confirmed he and Parker would be over at eight. Realizing that it was now even later and there was nothing else for them to discuss, they reluctantly said their goodbyes and hung up.

She had long ago turned the lights out and burrowed under the covers, but found now that the silence in her apartment was deafening. Memories of Booth's warm arms encircling her the night before flooded her and a part of her wished he was here with her tonight. Restless, she tossed and turned until finally she went out to her living room and retrieved the undershirt she had found earlier. It slid easily over her head, engulfing her in his scent and eventually lulling her into deep sleep.


	6. Sunday Games

Chapter 6: Sunday Games

Far before she was ready for it to, Brennan's alarm went off, announcing the morning's arrival. Groaning, she turned it off and moved further under the covers; burying herself once more and closing her eyes.

An untold amount of time later, she jolted awake; a furtive glance informing her she only had a half an hour until Parker and Booth would arrive. Quickly, she showered and changed into clothes that were slightly more appropriate for Parker's company. The percolator was slurping along when the familiar knock on her door sounded.

"Come in, Booth," she called, "it's unlocked."

"Bones," he teased, walking in and draping his suit coat over one of her chairs as he dropped the donuts on the counter with a thud, "we could've been anyone!"

"But you're not," she smirked, then smiled at his companion. "Good morning, Parker. You look very handsome."

"Thanks, Bones," the boy smiled, smoothing his tie in the exact same manner his father always did before producing something from behind his back. "We got these for you, too."

He handed her a small bouquet of daffodils, looking up at her expectantly. She smiled widely, and planted a kiss on his cheek in thanks.

"Hey," Booth pretended to pout, "I picked them out too, you know."

"Thank you, Booth," she gave him the exact same chaste kiss as she had Parker, before turning on her heel to put the flowers in water.

He only pouted slightly, then seemed to realize that there were certain boundaries they had to observe with Parker present. The three of them chatted about the events of the day before and their plans for later that afternoon as Booth and Brennan worked seamlessly at getting the small breakfast underway.

Parker sipped at his coffee, mimicking the adults, but was actually more content with the donuts he and Booth had picked out, as well as the fresh bananas and strawberries that Brennan offered him.

"Bones, may I use your bathroom?" he asked upon finishing.

"Of course," she nodded.

Parker jumped off of the stool and headed back toward the bathroom. Losing no time whatsoever, Booth closed the distance between he and Brennan and captured her lips in his. They merged instantly, the greeting passionate, but hurried, knowing they only had a short window of time.

"Oh," she said when they broke apart shortly, "that reminds me."

To Booth's consternation, she abandoned the warmth of his arms and took off for her bedroom. Guaranteed, if Parker hadn't been there, he'd have followed her; but right now he was already struggling to get control back from certain other body parts before he had to leave for Mass. When she returned with a neatly folded undershirt of his, he smiled mischievously, loving the fact that she was hiding a smirk too.

He quickly shoved it in his pocket and schooled his features as Parker emerged from the bathroom. To the displeasure of all, it was time for the Booth boys to leave, but they promised they would see her later when she met them at Booth's apartment for lunch. Both of them gave her a hug and a small kiss on the cheek; though Booth's lasted just a few seconds longer than his son's.

The apartment seemed empty when the door clicked shut behind them. The only evidence that she'd had company at all were the empty mugs and a smattering of crumbs on the counter and under the stool where Parker had been sitting. A few minutes later, not even that remained, and she poured herself a second cup of coffee, opened her laptop, and got to work.

She was so engrossed in an e-mail she almost missed her phone chiming that she had a text message waiting.

**Are you ****TRYING to kill me, Woman?**

_Not particularly. I prefer you alive._

**I unfolded the undershirt.**

A gleam lit her eyes as she smiled, thinking about the thong she'd secreted inside of the shirt. She honestly hadn't thought he would discover it in church; but that made it all the more funny and she could almost envision the look on his face.

**Stop laughing at me, Bones.** **I know you are. This is serious.**

_It's rather humorous, actually. Why were you fiddling with the shirt in church in the first place?_

It was several minutes before the response came: _Was still in my pocket. Parker wanted a mint. Have to stop for service now. We'll talk later._

With a bemused look, she set the phone down and turned back to the laptop, wondering just exactly what that conversation would entail.

B&B&B&B&B&B&B

Booth supposed that with his luck, he should be glad that he wasn't fiddling around in his pockets during confession, though that didn't make it any less awkward for him to have to sit through the service. He wasn't exactly sure why he'd even kept the shirt balled up in his pocket, but by the time they'd left Brennan's place that morning they were already running late.

He decided he would also be thankful that he recognized the shape of what he was feeling when he went searching for Parker's mints. The old ladies were glaring at him hard enough when he was texting before the service started. He could only imagine what they would've thought if he'd pulled out the skimpy thong, not to mention the interrogation he'd face from his son.

As it was, he put up with the glares, apologized to Parker for not having any mints, and beat a fast path out of Mass as soon as they were released. Parker had no trouble with this as he was just as eager to get back to the apartment and spend the afternoon with Brennan. Booth tried to remember the last time Parker had been this excited about one of his girlfriends. As best he could figure, this was a first so he took that as a good sign. No matter how badly either of them wanted this, it wouldn't go anywhere serious if Parker wasn't 100% comfortable with it.

He had just enough time to throw on jeans and a t-shirt when Bones knocked on his door. Parker tore through the small apartment, announcing that he would get it, and greeting Bones with a small hug and a rushed recap of the day's planned activities as he dragged her inside and shut the door behind them. For her part, Bones was great, nodding patiently, commenting every once in a while, and showing Parker every bit as much respect as she did Booth himself.

Lunch consisted of simple sandwiches and chips with beer for the adults and milk for Parker. The boy whined a little bit about the milk, but Brennan was quick to point out all of the benefits milk contained in terms of bone health and she even requested a glass for herself when she'd finished her beer. For dessert, Booth pulled out his old beer steins from his frat days and made frothy root beer floats for them all.

Outside, a spring storm was brewing, putting a crimp in Parker's plans to go to the park, so instead they stayed in and played games. The Booth boys soon discovered what a ruthless Monopoly Jr. player Temperance Brennan was, and how quickly she caught on to all of the other board games they introduced her to. Booth, however, managed to beat them both at Clue, and Parker crowed loudly when he captured both adults in Mouse Trap.

They were in the middle of teaching her how to play Wii Bowling when Rebecca knocked on the door to collect Parker. Parker managed to wheedle his mom not only into letting them finish the game they were on, but also convincing her to play the next round with them. It was an odd dynamic, Booth supposed, but it put his mind at ease that all of the important people in his life could get along so well.

In then end, Brennan was the one who ended up leaving first. There were a few loose ends she needed to tie up at the lab before the work week started, but she promised Parker that she would come back and play with him again on the following weekend. Shortly after she left, Parker and Becca did too. Alone and restless, Booth made short work of the mess that had sprung up in both the living room and the kitchen before flipping the TV on to catch the last few innings of the Phillies/Nats game.

He was in a very good mood when the Phillies won and an idea began forming in his head.

"Hey, Bones," he answered when she picked up. "How's the lab work going?"

"It's going well," she thanked him. "Did you enjoy your afternoon with Parker?"

"I had fun with both of you," he assured her. "In fact, I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner together tonight when you're done?"

"Sure," he imagined her shoulders shrugging, "I should be done shortly, so perhaps we could meet at the diner around six-thirty?"

"Actually," he said cautiously, "I was thinking we could go somewhere besides the diner, or the Founding Fathers, or Sid's."

"Are you-" she stopped, finally catching on to what he was asking. "Are you asking me on a date, Booth?"

"I think I am," it took all of his courage to say. The fact that they'd been making out like teenagers all weekend didn't guarantee him anything with this woman, "You okay with that?"

"I believe I would enjoy that, a lot, yes," she said softly, then with more confidence. "Should I meet you at a restaurant or will you be insisting on picking me up?"

"Gotta pick you up, Bones," he teased, smiling because they both knew what his answer would be. "What time's good?"

"Seven o'clock would be a good time to make the reservation for," she said thoughtfully and he could hear her shuffling around. "As I said, I believe I'm almost done here."

"Okay, seven. Great," he repeated. "Sounds good."

"Booth," her voice was small and shy if he wasn't mistaken, "I'm looking forward to exploring this aspect of our newly recognized social contract."

"I can't wait to see you either, Bones," he smiled. "It's gonna be a fun date."


	7. You Learn Something New Every Day

Chapter 7: You Learn Something New Every Day

Nerves were running high on both sides of the door as 6:29 rolled into 6:30. She irrationally wondered if he would find her outfit attractive, while he tried to convince himself that if he could infiltrate a war zone, knocking on her door should be a breeze.

All the while they both kept repeating the mantra that it was "just a date" though they both knew how false that was. This was no ordinary date any more than they were ordinary partners. The unspoken rules they had been keeping for the last six years were about to shatter; and it began with his knock.

"Come in," she was at her door, dragging him in by the hand almost as soon as his knuckles hit wood. "That suit accentuates the breadth of your shoulders and chest and is quite attractive."

He smiled with pride, satisfied that he'd gone with the 3-piece even if it was probably a little over the top for a first date, then took a step back to admire her.

"You look very beautiful yourself, Bones," the grin reached his eyes and his eyes drank in the satiny material that was just long enough and just low enough to tease him without being inappropriate.

"I wasn't certain if your dates usually-" he could read the insecurity in her eyes and cut her off with a soft kiss.

"Hey, you're the standard, remember?" he traced her jaw, waiting for her to nod. "That means I don't compare you to _anyone_."

It was the right thing to say and her confidence buoyed almost instantly, snapping her back to her normal self.

"We should leave now presuming you made the reservation for seven," she told him.

"I did," he helped her into her wrap and proffered his arm. "Wanna know where we're going?"

She shot him a surprised look as he closed and locked her apartment with his key, then walked her to the elevators, "Isn't it traditional for the male to keep the first date a surprise?"

"You hate surprises," he reminded her as they crossed the parking garage. "Besides, it's not like we haven't been there before, so you'd figure it out quick anyway."

"I would?" she was taken aback, intrigued that he wasn't taking her somewhere new.

"We've been there, but we haven't eaten there," he clarified.

As she sat down in the passenger's seat, she tried to determine what restaurants they had visited but never eaten at.

"Carly's Table," he announced, taking his place behind the wheel.

"Oh!" she smiled brightly. "That's a good choice."

"I thought so too," he winked. "Can't go wrong with mac 'n' cheese!"

As they drove the topic went from Carly's case, to Hank's condition, and finally to Parker's baseball game later that week. Booth was still one of the coaches and he invited Brennan to come watch the game, assuring her that Parker would love to have her there and that Becca wouldn't be offended because baseball really wasn't her thing. Eventually, they reached Carly's Table and Booth reluctantly handed over his keys to the valet.

"Wait," she tugged at his arm as they walked toward the front door, "how did you manage to get reservations so quickly?"

"Um," he smirked, "I may or may not have called pretending to be your manager."

She punched him slightly in the arm and rolled her eyes, but when they got inside she was the one who spoke to the woman up front.

"Two for Brennan, please."

"Uh, Bones," he shook his head ever so slightly, then smiled at the hostess. "She means Booth. Two for Booth."

Brennan barely restrained herself as the woman smiled brightly back at Booth and eagerly offered to show him to _his_ table. She couldn't stay angry with him for long, though, when she realized that he had reserved the most private table in the restaurant: a small, circular booth, tucked away in the corner.

"Mmm," Booth all but salivated as they perused the menu. "So much man 'n' cheese goodness!"

"Do you want to be alone with it?" she teased, "Because after that little stunt-"

"Nope," he caught hold of her hand under the table and moved his entire body closer to her so that their knees brushed each other. "I need you here. And how else was I supposed to get it if I didn't fake being you?"

"They know you here as well," she pointed out, "but regardless, it wasn't _my_ name that we were listed under. It was quite clear that you enjoyed the table for two being in _your_ name- and you were employing your charm on that woman."

"Guilty on the enjoyment count," he gave that one to her, "but that wasn't the _charm_ charm, I promise."

"She enjoyed it," Brennan sniffed. "Not to mention she was ogling you."

"So?" He shrugged, "There were about a half-dozen guys checking you out on our way back here, but it doesn't bother me." She tilted her head in an unspoken question so he continued, "Look, Bones, I'm not here for any of them, I'm here for you. And you being here with me? Giving this thing between us a shot? That means the world and I couldn't care less what anyone else thinks."

The waiter came then with glasses of water for them and took their order. For a long moment stillness settled over the table; not that either one of them didn't want to talk, but neither knew what to say.

"This is ridiculous," Brennan said as Booth reached for a third bread stick. "You and I never lack for words during out other dinner engagements. This should be no different."

The look he shot her said that they both know this was different and she dipped her head just a fraction in acknowledgment.

"Okay, so we're a little nervous," he gave her a small smile, taking her hand once more. "Let's wrack it up to first date jitters and move on."

"Move on to what?" she wondered aloud. "We already know the answers to the customary introductory topics new couples usually engage in."

"How about," he tried to come up with something on the fly, "hands?"

"Hands?" she gave him a dubious look.

He nodded, more sure of himself now, and began lightly rubbing her hand, folding it inside of his. "I've always liked them, did you know that?" She shook her head and he continued, "I have. They're soft and smooth, but strong and sure too. You never give anyone a limp handshake and I still find it kinda hot when you punch out our suspects no matter how much extra paperwork it means. It's also amazing to watch you pick up a bone and feel it and tell it's story."

"Story?" she found herself enraptured by his words, her glance moving between his eyes and their intertwined fingers.

"Who the person was, where they came from, how they died," he explained. "You give that back to them, Bones, so that their families can bury them in peace."

This time the silence was shorter and richer as she both basked in what he'd said and formulated her own response.

"Your hands are large," she observed. "They're rough and calloused from years of manual labor and are proof of how hard you've worked to become the best in your field. Your hands have to be quite steady, as well, to be such and accomplished marksman."

"Thanks."

"There is something you possess, however, that I lack," she wasn't finished.

"What, Bones?" they were speaking in soft voices now, so focused that nothing outside of the two of them existed.

Her schooled features slipped and for a moment revealed the same insecurities she'd shown that night outside of the Hoover. "I can touch bones and determine things from them, but you," she laid the flat of her palm against his forearm, "you know how to touch people."

He opened his mouth to say something as she paused, but she cut him off, "Don't argue, Booth, it's true. From the early days of our partnership forward I have watch you calm, comfort, and relieve people with a single touch. Your hands are more than capable of killing, and I know that haunts you, but they also are capable of great tenderness. I don't have that kind of empathy."

The truth of her words was demonstrated as his free hand moved to intercept the lone tear tracking down her cheek, gently brushing it away. "Shh," he soothed.

Embarrassed, she turned abruptly to the food that had arrived while they were talking. He took it as a good sign that she hadn't moved the rest of her body away from him and he turned to his own food. Soon the heaviness of the moment faded in light of how mouthwatering the food actually was.

Booth made the first move, offering her a bite of his food. She fed him some of hers and let out a small laugh as he moaned in pleasure. Slowly, they relaxed until they were bantering back and forth like they did at any other meal.

"I'm stuffed," Booth declared, pushing back his dessert plate.

"That's not surprising," she shook her head. "You ate all of your own food and the remainder of mine, not to mention that slice of cheesecake."

"It was good," he grinned. "And you don't know what you're missing with the cheesecake."

The waiter left the check and Booth insisted on paying. Like the perfect gentleman he helped her up, planting his hand firmly on her lower back, and escorted her out.

"Care if we go on a little side trip before we head back to your place?" he asked as he started up the SUV.

She didn't so he headed downtown and found a parking space a few blocks from his destination. A cool breeze blew, drawing her further into his embrace as they walked.

"We missed the festival, but it's still nice," he commented as they came to the long line of cherry trees.

"It's beautiful," she smiled, taking in the sight of all the cherry blossoms in the pale moonlight.

They weren't the only couple taking advantage of the nice weather and the full moon. People milled to and fro, some walking while others sat talking on the benches scattered along the path.

"Seeley Booth?" a surprised voice boomed from behind them.

Booth swung around quickly, a wide grin splitting his face as recognition dawned, "Chris! How are you, old man?"

"Old man, huh?" Booth's friend huffed, pounding Booth on the back as the two men clasped hands. "I can still take you any day of the week."

"Bring it on," Booth challenged him with a wink.

"I'll take you both," the petite woman next to Chris spoke up.

"Annie," Booth greeted her with a warm embrace. "You still hanging out with this lug?"

The woman didn't miss a beat, "Still married to him too. We're coming up on twenty years next month."

"Wow," Booth shook he head in disbelief, turning to his date. "Bones, this is Mordacai Christman and his wife Annie. Chris was one of my instructors at Quantico. Chris, Annie, this is my girlfriend, Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"I thought I recognized you," Annie smiled as the three of them shook hands. "Your writing is excellent. I reference you to my students all the time."

"You're an instructor at Quantico as well?" Brennan queried.

"American Lit professor at Georgetown, actually," the other woman smiled kindly. You know there are very few authors who can manage to write the technical aspects of a book accurately while keeping the reader engaged; though your use of first person helps give it a unique flavor."

As the two men caught up on their respective careers, Brennan learned that Annie held two doctorates- one in education and another in 19th century literature- as well as a Masters in Political Science. They also discovered that they knew several of the same people in the literary world. Annie didn't hesitate to scoff at some of the more pretentious authors she'd met over the years and Brennan found her honesty and candor refreshing.

"So how did you and Seeley meet?" Annie asked.

"As a forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian, I was called on as a consultant for the FBI," Brennan explained. "Booth and I have been partners for five years. We work on cases where the bodies are too heavily desiccated to identify by traditional methods."

"Ah, you work together too," Annie smiled, "that must be nice. It's hard to find people who understand when you have a demanding job."

They spoke a little bit more about what Booth and Brennan did together, then Annie shared how she and her husband had met. Booth and Chris joined the conversation eventually, relaying how a younger Seeley Booth, fresh out of the Rangers, had been taken under his instructor's wing and had often sought out Annie's kitchen when he was in want of a home-cooked meal.

It was close to eleven when the four of them finally walked back toward their respective cars and parted company. Booth was very energized after the chance meeting and spoke of little else as they drove back to her apartment.

"You and Annie seemed to get along well, Bones," he commented.

"She's a very intelligent woman and we found several points of common interests," she nodded.

"Ruthless prof too," he smirked. "I took one of her classes when I was finishing up my degree and it nearly killed me. She didn't cut me any slack even though we'd known each other awhile by then."

Brennan stated that that was only fair and took the opportunity to inquire about the time-line of Booth's higher education. Apparently, it was toward the end of his freshman year of college that he had been injured badly enough to lose his basketball scholarship. This had resulted in his enlistment in the Rangers, during which time he had taken correspondence courses when possible toward his criminal justice degree. She was stunned to find that it was a _Master's_ degree that he had earned at Georgetown through an accelerated completion program. This overlapped with his training at Quantico as well.

"So," he asked as they rode the elevator to her apartment, "did you have a good time tonight?"

"I did," she smiled, linking her arm with his. "The food was wonderful, I enjoyed meeting your old friends, and I must admit that I was intrigued to learn the depths of your education."

"Do I qualify as intellectually stimulating now?" he teased.

"You always have," she laughed. "I've never found conversation with you to be uninteresting."

"Good to know," he said with a half-smile.

When they reached her door, the hesitated, each unsure of exactly what to do next.

"Well, Bones," he faced her, "guess I'll see you tomorrow sometime. You wanna meet for lunch?"

"Lunch," she nodded. "Yes."

He nodded back and began walking up the hallway to leave.

"Booth!" she called after him.

He spun back around immediately and without further thought she stepped toward him, kissing him full on the lips. It took less than a second for him to recover and kiss her back. His tongue teased her lips and they parted for him as his parted for her.

They stumbled and he leaned on her door for support, pressing her up against it as he did. The intensity doubled as it was no longer a secret just how turned on he was.

"We," she gasped between kisses, "should go inside."

That was all the encouragement he needed to fumble for his keys and unlock the door.


	8. Yours, Mine, and Ours

Chapter 8: Yours, Mine, and Ours

In the weeks and months following his coma, it wasn't unusual for Booth to wake up believing that he had just made love to the woman who had been occupying his dreams since he first walked in on her lecture six years ago. So when he woke up the morning after their first date feeling more sated and content than he had in years it took him a long moment to remind himself that last night reality had shattered all of his previous dreams.

The naked woman whose legs were entwined with his reinforced that this wasn't just his imagination, and the memory of those legs and the dance they'd preformed with his brought a smile to his face. She murmured something in her sleep and rolled over onto her back, covers pushed aside. It'd been dark in the apartment last night and they hadn't bothered with lights, so he drank in the view now, appreciating every plane and curve.

A rude alarm clock warbled, bringing his secret viewing pleasures to an end by waking her up. She slapped at it until it stilled, then fell back down onto her pillow and groaned.

"Good morning to you too," Booth teased. "Did you have a good sleep?"

"Though the actual amount of _sleep_ I had was minimal," she grinned slyly, "it was sufficient."

"_You_ were the one who woke _me_ up, if my memory serves me right," he winked, tucking her untamed hair behind her ear.

"I didn't hear any complaints from your end."

"And you never will."

There was a short pause as the implications of the night they'd just shared settled in. The first time had been a phrenetic loosening of all of the everything they'd been suppressing for so long and by the end they'd managed just enough energy to move from the floor to the couch as they curled up together and passed out.

About an hour later, she'd woken him up with several kisses from his chest to his neck, riling him up again, along with the fact that she was already all but on top of him. This time, though, he'd managed to gain enough control to steer them into the bedroom and onto the bed, and the mood had become much more tender.

"I suppose we've solidified our social contract," she mused, her fingers skating across his abdominal muscles.

"Mmm, yes," his hand brushed her bare thigh. "I'm afraid you're going to think I'm cheap and easy for putting out on the first date, though."

That earned him a wide smiled, "I promise not to think any less of you."

This time the room go quiet when they began occupying their lips with something other than speech. Their hands were getting busy too when the alarm sounded again.

"We need to get up," she said, though she didn't move away and her hips still moved in synch with his.

"I am up," he leered.

She rolled her eyes, "We have to got to work, Booth."

"We'll call in sick," he rolled her over, trapping her underneath him as he buried his face in her neck.

"No," she shook her head, palms flat against his chest and pushing up. "That would be a lie, not to mention irresponsible of us."

"Fine," he conceded with a dramatic sigh as he freed her. "But this time I'm showering with you."

"Only if you behave and don't make us late," she arched an eyebrow.

They left her apartment five minutes earlier than she normally did.

"Where are you going?" he frowned when they got out to the parking garage and she didn't walk with him to the SUV.

"To work," she looked at him as if that was obvious.

"Well yeah, I figured that but I thought we'd ride together."

"Why?" the thought hadn't occurred to her. "We don't have a case, so it's not as if we're going to the same location."

"It's a couple's thing," he tried a charm smile on her, "and besides, it'll save gas and you're all for that, right?"

"Fine," she agreed, putting her keys away. "Though if you really wanted to save gas we would take my hybrid rather than your gas-gulper."

"Guzzler," he laughed, throwing her a wink and a salute as they climbed in his car.

Morning traffic hadn't picked up yet, which was good. Brennan was oddly quiet, so after a few minutes, Booth slid his hand across the center console to rest on top of her hand. She jumped a little, then gave a shy smile as their fingers laced together. The silence continued, but Booth took it as a good sign when she started playing with his hand; flipping it over and tracing his palm with her finger.

"Booth," she finally spoke as they pulled into the Jeffersonian's drop-off area, looking a little unsure, "is this change in our relationship ours?"

"Ours?" he knew he was missing something but wasn't sure what.

"Yes," she nodded earnestly, "you know- _ours_. Something that should be kept between just the two of us."

He got the reference and nodded, speaking softly, "Yeah, Bones, it's ours."

"Okay," she squeezed his hand on last time before releasing it, sounding much more sure of herself. "You'll call me if we get a case?"

"I always do," he smiled reassuringly. "Diner at noon?"

"Twelve-thirty," she negotiated. "I will most likely have a good deal of correspondence and other work to catch up on this morning."

"It's a date," he winked.

"So it is," she smiled almost giddily. "Have a good day, Booth."

"You too, Bones."

She hopped out, shouldering her bag and walked toward the building. He smiled when she turned her head to look back at him just before she went in and he waved his fingers at her before pulling away.

B&B&B&B&B

It was one thing to come to terms with what had happened between them when just the two of them were present, but not that she was at work, she was beginning to wonder how the logistics of this new relationship would work out. Brennan was so lost in thought as she made her way to her office she didn't notice that someone had come up beside her until Angela started talking.

"So, Bren, I called your place Saturday morning to snag you for a girl's breakfast," the artist said casually. "Where were you?"

"Oh," Brennan answered absentmindedly, "yes, I was with Booth."

"Nice," her friend grinned suggestively. "Were you doing naughty things with him?"

"Ange," Brennan shook her head and hung her bag on its hook, glad she had a viable excuse to give her friend, "Hank had a heart attack Friday night and I was with Booth at the time so I went with him."

"Oh wow, Sweetie," compassion flooded her face and she dropped the suggestive tone. "Is Hank alright? Is Booth alright?"

"Yes to both questions," she nodded, booting up her computer. "Hank's doctor assured us it was only a mild attack and should be easily preventable as long as he follows the prescribed treatment plan."

Angela hid a smile at the word "us" but was relieved to hear nothing serious was wrong.

"So you guys were at the hospital all Saturday?" she asked sympathetically.

"Saturday morning," Brennan corrected. "Once Booth arrived with Parker we left and had a picnic at a nearby park."

"Aw, Baby Booth was there too?" all thoughts of anything going on between her friends fled, though the family picnic sounded downright domestic.

"Yes, Rebecca-" Brennan stopped short, eyes widening at the screen in front of her, mouth forming an 'o.'

"Hey, you okay?" Angel craned her neck to get a look at whatever it was that had Brennan's attention; unsure what emotions were playing across the anthropologist's face.

"What?" Brennan snapped partially out of her stupor, still keeping her main focus on the computer. "No- yes- I'm fine, Ange. Would you excuse me, please? I have some work to attend to."

"Sure thing, Sweetie. Just call me if you need anything," Angela waved, knowing full well Brennan was lost in thought.

B&B&B&B&B

Over at the Hoover, Booth was having trouble not getting lost in thoughts of his own- mostly the ones where his beautiful partner's naked body was on top of him. Or under him.

One off the first things he did was pull the framed picture of the two of them from his bottom desk drawer and set it next to his pictures of Parker. They were in their formal wear at one of the Jeffersonian's galas, smiling and so caught up in their conversation, they'd never realized Angela had snapped the picture. He figured no one would catch the significance of it being on display now, and if they asked he could always just claim it was because they were partners.

Next on his morning agenda was delivering the finished paperwork to Caroline on time. He glanced at his watch. It wasn't quite eight yet, which meant if he hurried he might be able to drop it off before she got in. He took the steps instead of the elevator to get to her floor faster, but his heart sunk when he reached her office door.

"Mornin', Cherie," she waved him in. "Looks like I won't have to track you down after all."

"Everything's here," he assured her, handing her the stack.

"Of course it is," she chucked the file onto the desk with a plop. "That's not what I need you for."

His phone went off and he held up an apologetic finger toward her. The info came fast and furious from the other end, and he whipped out his pen, scribbling everything down quickly before hanging up

"Gotta go, Caroline," he smiled. "Bones an I have a case!"

"What else did you think I needed to tell you? Heard it on the scanner on the way in."

"You have a scanner?" he was surprised.

"It's called stayin' a step ahead, oh and Booth?"

He halted in his tracks as he was leaving and turned toward her.

"Unless you want the whole building to know you finally got laid by that pretty partner of yours, I'd keep the goofy grins when her name's mentioned to a minimum."

"Uh, thanks," he stuttered. "Look, can you-"

"Your secret's safe with me, Cher, just promise me I get to play fairy godmother when you two get around to makin' babies the old-fashioned way. I've earned at _least_ that much after six years of watchin' you moon over her!"

"Godmother," he nodded. "You've got it."

"Good, now go grab that _girlfriend_ of yours and build me a solid case," she shooed him out of her office.

Fairly sure he'd just dodged a bullet, he took the empty elevator down and leaned heavily against the back of it during the ride. After a few deep breaths he dialed the first number on his speed dial.

"Hey, Bones, grab the squints for a field trip. Ceiling collapsed in a downtown apartment building and dumped our kind of body with it. We've got us a case, Baby!"


	9. All Fall Down

Chapter 9: All Fall Down

He'd expected to be corrected for his bad grammar- or at least the "Baby" thing, but so far Brennan hadn't said more than a few words since he'd picked her up.

"Apparently the kid was jumping on his bed and just missed being hit by the ceiling," he spoke up in an attempt to break the silence. "Local guys said the mom was freaking out about it, but the kid was fine and wanted to know if he could keep the skull."

"I had several horse skulls when I was a teenager," Brennan commented. "I would've like to have had a human one, though."

"I bet."

"My father had one in his science lab at the high school that he used to let me handle as long as I promised to be careful with it," she said wistfully.

They chatted lightly about her early fascination with bones, but she still seemed oddly distant and he wondered if she was starting to over-think everything that had happened last night. He was about to broach the subject in a round-about way when the flashing lights from the mess of cop cars sitting outside of the apartment building they were headed for came into view.

They got out and Brennan pulled on her jumpsuit over her clothes and they went in. Sure enough, the kid's room was a disaster area, not just from the ceiling debris, but from all kinds of other things that had come through with it. A vintage hockey puck caught Booth's eye, giving him something to focus his nervous energy on as Brennan gave the pile of bones that was on top of the heap a once-over.

It wasn't until she gave him just the barest of details on the guy that he finally decided it was time to call her out on just how out of character she was acting. To his surprise, and relief, it wasn't last night that was making her distracted, but rather some very significant anthropological dig that was happening on an island so weirdly named he couldn't help throwing in a cheap poop joke. It sounded like this dig was something that really fascinated her, but right now he needed her mind in the U.S. so he gently refocused her.

She had no trouble focusing once the smarmy landlord unlocked the upstairs apartment for them. Apparently hoarders provided an anthropological microcosm of their life within their crap and she was utterly entranced.

"So where do we start?" Booth asked as she wandered around.

"Well," she said, peering out from around a stack of yellowed newspapers, "judging from the remains downstairs, it's unlikely that any body parts are still here."

"The hole swallowed him whole?" he joked.

She nodded, the gleam in her eye telling him she got it, "Most likely due to the bodily fluids leaking out and compromising the integrity of the floorboards."

"Yuck," he made a face and flipped the puck from hand to hand.

"I believe it would be best for you to remain up here and make sure that no one disturbs this area, while I go back down and see to the remains," she was thinking out loud.

"Right," he gave her a lopsided grin, "wouldn't want anyone making a mess of this crime scene."

"I'm serious, Booth," she frowned, snatching the puck from him and putting it in a pile of other pucks that she'd found. "Angela should be able to analyze this 'mess' as you call it and uncover some pertinent information about this man's life. Any disturbances could hinder her- What are you smiling about?"

"Your nose gets all squished up when you correct me," he laughed. "I like it. It's cute."

"Hodgins," she was trying hard not to be flustered, "should be here momentarily. I will be downstairs."

He waited until she was walking through the door before baiting her, "Whatever you say, Baby."

Right on cue, she threw a glare at him and in a voice that only he could hear said, "Don't call me Baby."

He chuckled quietly so as not to attract the techs milling around in the hall, then sat down on a nearby stack to wait for the rest of the squints.

B&B&B&B&B

What Brennan hadn't revealed to Booth when he pointed out her lack of attention to detail was that the study in the Maluku islands was only part of what was distracting her. Ever since Heather Taffet's trial, Brennan had been questioning how valuable the work she and Booth performed was. Yes, she recognized that they were taking criminals off of the streets and giving closure to families, but the scientist in her yearned to make an impact in the academic community as well.

The scholar in her had been awakened during the case surrounding Anok and the subsequent discovery that he had not, as history previously reported, murdered his brother. She had enjoyed branching out into her own investigation of the matter, and had taken great care and pride in the journal article she and Ms. Wick had collaborated on afterward. It had been a great honor to have her findings not only published in one of the more prominent anthropology journals, but displayed in an exhibit at the Jeffersonian as well. The only aspect of it she disliked was the public speaking, and only that because she felt the science and research should speak for itself.

Upon reading the email from a colleague who was in Maluku already and urging her to get involved, she had contacted the organizers to see what aid she could offer. She and Dr. Mark Albright, the project's chief coordinator had discussed the methods and equipment that were being used, and probably would have conversed further had she not received the call from Booth about this case; though she assured him she would remain in touch.

Her attempts to remain focused on the case at hand were only marginally successful while they were at the crime scene and were thwarted even further after they returned to the lab when Ms. Wick announced in a rather fervent pitch that she had already been accepted into the project on Brennan's recommendation. Brennan fought and failed to overcome the irrational wave of jealousy toward her young intern and was chagrined when Cam pointed her lack of enthusiasm out. If she was perfectly honest with herself the case was the last thing she wanted to be working on, yet she grudgingly agreed with Cam that the murder was their chief priority at the moment.

As soon as the initial observations were logged, she returned to her office if only to escape the constant flow of chatter emanating from her loquacious intern concerning the Maluku project. Halfway through logging her notes in her report, Booth called.

"Got anything for me?" he asked almost immediately.

"The victim's dental records match the name of the tenant the landlord mentioned," she informed him. "And there appear to be some sort of blade marks on the skull; though I've yet to determine what caused them or if they are, indeed, the cause of death."

"Okay," he sounded almost as aloof as she felt. "I sent Sweets over to Hodgins to see what his take on all of that junk is."

"So I see," she said, amusement tugging at her lips at the email attachment on her screen. "Hodgins just sent the first round of pictures back. Apparently there was not a jumpsuit in Sweets' size."

"Oh, you've _got_ to forward that one to me," Booth was fully engaged in the conversation once more.

"Why do I get the feeling your motives are not entirely altruistic?" she teased, not telling him she'd already sent it to him.

"Aw, com' on, Bones! Can't a guy have some fun?" he whined.

"Is it truly fun if it's at someone else's expense?"

"Mostly, no," he admitted, "but Sweets is a special exception, so you gotta-"

There was a pause on Booth's end and when he let out a laugh, she knew he'd received her email.

"Oh, this is good stuff, Bones," she could picture the wide grin his tone implied. "You're the best!"

"You're welcome," she smiled back. "Are there any suspects that have emerged thus far?"

"I'm gonna bring in the landlord," his tone returned to normal. "You want in on it, or would you rather do your Machu Picchu thing?"

"Maluku," she corrected automatically, knowing he had deliberately mispronounced it. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Nope," he assured her. "You seemed really excited about it earlier."

"I am," now the wide grin was on her face. "The scientific insights could have staggering implications."

"Good," came the generic reply. "Hey, Bones, I gotta go. Why don't we meet at the Diner and compare case notes?"

She agreed and they decided upon a time before they hung up. The rest of her morning was spent discoursing with Dr. Albright via instant messenger and studying x-rays from the apartment victim that Cam sent her. It was a few minutes later than she had planned on when she finally finished, and since Booth had dropped her off that morning, she donned her white coat and began walking to the Diner.

From across the street she could see Booth already at their table. His body language indicated he was pensive, something she presumed had to do with the man in uniform sitting across from him. It appeared to be a very private, intense conversation so she waited for the soldier to leave before she entered.

Booth, true to form, acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary; though clearly he was distressed. Rather than let him conceal the matter- which he would never allow her to do- she called him on his odd behavior, prodding until he produced the letter she'd watched the soldier give him.

The letter itself was quite flattering, listing all of Booth's commendations from his service record as well as what Booth explained to be an offer to promote him. The cost of that promotion, she discovered as she read on, was his agreement to rejoin the Rangers as an instructor in Afghanistan.

"Will you go?" she asked, thinking of the offer from Dr. Albright that awaited her decision.

"No," he said far too quickly for her to believe him. "I've got Parker, and this thing with Pops' health, and you. I did my time."

"But this letter says that you're needed to save lives," she pressed for the truth.

"Anyone could do that," he insisted.

"Not with your qualifications," she countered. A thought occurred to her, "Are you refusing because of the change in our relationship status?"

"What?" his voice changed pitch, indicating she was at least partially correct. "No, look, I'm good with what I do- with what _we_ do- for a living and the people _we_ help. Now," he took the letter back from her, "can we please talk about _our_ case?"

She nodded, sensing this would not be the ideal time to discuss her own offer, but instead picked up the menu in front of her and tried to decide what she was hungry for.


	10. Answers and Questions

Chapter 10: Answers and Questions

"So you'll be at Parker's game tonight?" Booth asked as the stood on the sidewalk just outside the diner.

"Yes," she nodded insistently. "That's the third time you've asked me, Booth. Are you certain you're alright?"

"Yeah-" he started to lie, then shook his head. "No- Look, I'll be okay, Bones- _we'll_ be okay."

It was the third time he'd said that as well but she chose not to point that out. For a long moment, they stood together- saying nothing but each wondering what to no next. Booth, for his part, yearned to feel her small hand in his but Angela and Cam were just inside the diner grabbing lunch so he didn't dare. On Brennan's end, she was very concerned about the choices facing the two of them given their new relationship status.

"I'll walk you back to the lab," Booth offered his elbow rather than his hand.

"But then you would have to backtrack to return to the Hoover," she frowned. "That makes no sense."

"It's a nice day out, it's not like the Hoover's on the other side of the city, and I want to go on a walk with my," he paused and mimed the next word, "girlfriend."

"Fine," she relented, looping her arm with his as they crossed the street. "I suppose you could use the exercise given the number of calories you consumed."

"Says the woman who stole half my fries and most of my milkshake," he nudged her shoulder with his.

"You had pie as well," she pretended to scold him, then sniffed and abruptly changed the subject. "The moniker 'girlfriend' has always seemed rather juvenile to be attached to adults."

"Well I'm not calling you my 'social contractee' so what would you suggest?" he joked.

"Partner?" she queried.

"Hmm," he leered openly, causing a shiver to run down her spine, "I don't know about you, Bones but I'd say last night went _way_ beyond 'partner's' stuff."

"You know what I mean," she rolled her eyes. "Domestic partners."

"How 'bout I call you 'Baby' and you call me 'Love Monkey' and we'll leave it at that?" he prodded her.

"I told you not to call me Baby," she shook her head, "and I am _not_ calling you 'Love Monkey' no matter how many charm smiles you give me, Booth."

"Aw, com'on, _Baby_, you know you want to," he unlinked their arms and put it around her shoulder instead, pulling her close.

"Seeley Joseph Booth do not doubt for one instant that I can and will kick you in the testicles in broad daylight," she gave him a playful shove, trying to keep her tone stern.

"Ooh, pulling out the middle name on me there, eh, Bones?" he looked impressed and since they were now far away from prying eyes took the opportunity to capture her hand. "Where did you even learn that, 'cause I'm pretty sure I never told you?"

"I'm afraid my source wishes to remain confidential," she told him primly, looking at anything but him.

"Uh huh," he snorted. "I'm gonna get that old man for narking on me. You two are trouble together!"

They both laughed and spent the rest of their walk bickering back and forth about the nature of her relationship with Hank. In reality, Booth didn't mind one bit that she got along with the man who'd been ten times the man his own dad was and was happy that she was developing a relationship with him, even if it meant Booth got teased on both ends more. He'd been more than willing to share his grandpa with her before they were a couple and now even more so.

He laughed at something when a loud bang sounded, sending them both diving to the ground instinctively. It sounded again and this time an old car rounded the bend, backfiring once more to reveal the source of the noise and making both of them feel foolish.

"Are you alright?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

"Yes. Are you?" she reached up, fingers probing his skull, "You hit your head. I saw."

"I'm fine," he soothed gently, capturing her hands. "Hey, shh, Bones, it's okay."

She attempted to break free of his grasp but he held onto her tightly until her breathing returned to normal and they resumed walking; this time much closer than they had been yet.

The lab came into view up ahead of them and simultaneously, their hands separated and she lifted her head off of his shoulder where it had been resting. He once again proffered his elbow and she once again accepted. Quickly scanning the surrounding area, he determined it was safe enough to drop a small kiss in her hair before resuming their walk.

"Well," he said when they reached the outside steps, "here we are."

Like a shy high school girl, her cheeks pinked slightly and she nodded, though her arm didn't move from its resting spot. Irrational as it might be, she found it difficult to relinquish the physical contact even though they'd arrived and both needed to get back to work. She felt the warmth fade almost immediately as he retracted his arm with an apologetic smile.

"I'll pick you up at four-thirty and drop you at home so you can change," he said. "Are you gonna eat there or grab something on the run with us?"

"I'll eat at home," she assured him, grateful that he had given her the option. "What time's the game?"

"Six, but we have to be at the field by five-thirty for the boys to warm up," he explained. "We should be okay if we pick you up by quarter after."

"Quarter after, right," she nodded.

"Yup," he smiled. "Well, I should head back.

"Of course," once again she found herself irrationally wanting to prolong the conversation.

Impulsively, she reached out from her perch two steps above him and readjusted his tie, smoothing it when she'd finished, and he in turn tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Almost instantly they both pulled back, looking around to make sure no one had witnessed the exchange. The grounds were empty, fortunately, and with one last, feather-light brush of their fingertips they said goodbye and walked away in opposite directions.

B&B&B&B&B

Brennan was contemplating the significance of how smoothly she and Booth had transitioned into the physical aspects of their new relationship, juxtaposed with the fear that had swept over her when he hit his head, that she almost didn't hear her young intern call out to her. Daisy proved to be persistent in her approach, however, following her onto the forensic platform, and after several long seconds of meaningless flattery, she finally revealed that Brennan had been wrong about the victim's cause of death.

One look at the photographs under heavy magnification confirmed Daisy's findings and triggered what Booth would term a hunch in Brennan. She had noted upon first inspection that something was different about the bones but could not put a label on it. Now, as she balanced one in her hands she was almost certain that this man had died of starvation.

Still, that hypothesis would need to be backed up with evidence, thus giving her intern a perfect opportunity to practice preforming a histological study on the bone. Brennan wondered if she was witnessing the sort of lack of tact Booth was always accusing her of not having as Ms. Wick commented on how odd it was for Brennan not to be a part of the Maluku project and rather than answer her, Brennan reiterated the assignment and walked away.

A seed of doubt had been planted, however, and it continued to germinate into an argument inside of Brennan's head until Angela began gently coaxing it out of her as they analyzed the victim's hoardings. Before she knew it, Brennan was revealing far more of the internal struggle she had been facing since the initial email had arrived than she had wanted to.

"But I need a break from that life," she responded to Angela's two lives thesis. "I'm worried all the time," she tried to convey the burden that had been slowly building on her shoulders over the past year. "Worried that Booth might get hurt on a case and I couldn't prevent it. Worried about what our," she paused for a moment before finding the correct word, "relationship means."

"So you want to get away from Booth?" Angela tried desperately to understand what her friend was trying to say, not liking the sounds of it in terms of her favorite non-couple.

"No," Brennan sighed in frustration, remembering how _good_ things had been between them last night, yet how easily the fear had overtaken her today. "I just need some perspective so I can view my life with some objectivity.

Angela gave her a sad smile, "Have you talked to him about it?"

She shook her head and explained about the Rangers and Afghanistan; the thought frightening her almost more than if they would remain working together. She didn't really think it was for the best any more than Angela did, so once again she deflected and put all of her fears and concerns to the side to focus on the work that was in front of her.


	11. Hardball

Chapter 11: Hardball

The time passed quickly between her talk with Angela and when Booth picked her up. She had planned on asking Booth if they could set a time for them to sit down and talk about some of the fears she was dealing with, but couldn't when he showed up with Parker. As promised, Booth and Parker took her back home and returned a little over an hour later for her. This time, Parker was dressed in his baseball uniform and ready to fill her in on all of the pertinent aspects of the game.

"So there's no time limit like in hockey?" she queried him.

"Nope," Parker confirmed. "In the Majors they play nine innings but we just play six."

"And you are the pitcher?" she made sure she was using the correct term.

"Yup, it's my job to strike the other team out," he grinned.

Parker went on to explain that it was his turn to be the team's starting pitcher for this game and assured her that it was going to be an "awesome" game. When they arrived, Booth explained that the boys- especially Parker- needed to go through a series of warm up exercises before the game so that they wouldn't hurt themselves. He helped her pick out a good seat in the bleachers then went to play catch with some of the boys.

Finally, it was time for the game to start and Booth rejoined her among the other parents. Parker's team was the first to be on defense, which Booth explained would give them the advantage at the end of the game when they were the last to bat. He spent the next two hours coaching her on the nuances of the game and cuing her in on the appropriate times to cheer.

Even more fascinating than the game itself for her, were the interactions within the teams themselves. It was clear from the onset of the game that Parker's was the more disciplined team. They played as a single unit, where the other team acted as nine individuals. She also observed that Parker's coach was firm, but accepting of the pre-adolescents' shortcomings in certain areas, whereas the other coach was surly at times and rather brusque.

It was no surprise to her, then, when Parker's team emerged victorious and she stood to her feet with Booth and applauded them as they exited the field.

"Did you see us, Bones? Did ya?" Parker came bounding over to where they stood. "We won!"

"It was a well-played game," she smiled. "And your pitching was excellent."

"I coulda gone longer," he boasted, referring to the fact that he was moved to first base after the third inning.

"Yeah, well, it's good to let the other guys play too," Booth gently chided him, putting an arm around Parker and linking hands with Brennan as they walked to the SUV.

"I guess," Parker shrugged out of the embrace, but stayed close by.

The mood in the car was decidedly buoyant as the two Booths recounted and analyzed the game from start to finish. It was clear Booth was very proud of his son's performance, and especially his fastball.

"Dad," Parker leaned forward in his seat so that he was as close to the front as he could get, "are you going back to be a soldier?"

Booth gripped the wheel tightly, looking from Parker, to Brennan, and finally back at Parker through the rear-view mirror, "Why are you asking me that?"

Parker explained that the Army had called Rebecca's house looking for Booth and Parker had concluded what they wanted. Booth explained that he wasn't in the Army anymore and that he had chosen to be in the FBI for Parker's sake so that he could help raise his son.

"So," the boy looked slightly crestfallen, "it's my fault?"

"Is what your fault?" Booth asked, surprised.

"It's my fault people are going to die," he answered matter-of-factly.

"No!" Booth was adamant, "That's- that's not what I meant."

"I want you to save lives," there was a pleading note in Parker's voice.

"Yeah, well I do that here."

"No," Parker insisted, "here you catch people that kill other people. There, you could make it so people won't die." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Isn't that better?"

Booth looked to Brennan for support and was about to brush off the topic altogether with a promise of root beer floats when she spoke up.

"Your logic is flawed, Parker, however noble," she said gently. "By apprehending criminals who have killed we are ensuring that they will not kill anyone else. Your father and I have both played essential roles in several serial killer cases over the years and to say that what the Army has asked of him is more valuable is to _de_value the work he does here."

"So staying with the FBI is better?" Parker wanted to know.

"The term 'better' is a relative one, Parker," she attempted to explain. "A thing's value is assigned by different people in different ways. For instance your good pitching was very valuable to your teammates, but at the same time it was not of _any_ value to the other team.

"What your father and I do is very important to the families we aid, as well as any potential future victims the killer might have selected," she was speaking as much to her own conundrum as she was to Parker.

"The job that your father would do for the Army should he accept would be equally valuable to the soldiers' families that he would help to save, as well as to any intended victims of the insurgents that they brought down. But whether your father stays or goes," she met the boy's eyes to make sure he understood, "you are in _no way_ responsible for the consequences of his decision. Do you understand that?"

"I think so," Parker nodded slowly. "You mean it's not my fault if people die?"

"Precisely," Brennan smiled, proud of him for following her reasoning and relieved that he would no longer carry that unnecessary burden.

"Thanks, Bones," Booth said softly, then cleared his throat. "Now, the real question is are you two ready for some huge, giant root beer floats?"

"Yeah!" Parker crowed from the back, sticking his fist out as far as he could for Booth to bump it.

"Bones?" Booth asked, father and son looking at her expectantly.

"Yeah," she nodded with a smile of her own and bumping both of their fists in return. "Though you realize that the words 'huge' and 'giant' are virtually synonymous?"

B&B&B&B&B&B

Parker was well on his way to a sugar high from the soda and ice cream, and was stuffing himself with fries on top of that when Booth's cell rang. One look at the caller ID and he excused himself from the table and headed outside to take the call.

"Hey, Parks," he said when he came back it, "why don't you go clean yourself up so Mom doesn't kill me for bringing you home all sticky?"

Brennan waited until Parker went into the bathroom to ask, "What's wrong? Who was that?"

"Eh," he plopped down in the seat beside her, "that was Cullen. I've gotta go back into the office for a meeting with some of the bigwigs. It's nothing bad, but it means we need to get going so I can change back into my suit beforehand."

"I can take Parker back to Rebecca's," she offered. "That would save you some time."

"That'd be great except I drove you here so you don't have a car," he pointed out.

"We can take a cab, Booth," she told him.

"A cab?" Parker was out of the bathroom and back at the table, looking excited. "Aw, _please_, Dad, that would be awesome?"

The look in both of their eyes told Booth he would be fighting a losing battle if he refused so he relented with a stern warning for Parker to listen to exactly what Brennan told him to do. He then called Rebecca and told her what had come up and what the new plan was.

Brennan beat him to the punch when it came to calling the cab, but he made sure that the guy knew exactly where he was taking them.

"We'll be fine," she assured him as Parker threw him a wave and climbed eagerly into the backseat. "I'll text you as soon as he's home."

"Thanks," he smiled, then pulled her in for a quick hug and a kiss near her ear where he whispered, "I love you."

Her eyes lit up at that and her cheeks glowed red and she nodded, giving him a shy smile as she backed into the cab. He closed the door gently behind her and stood on the curb, watching as the two most important people in his life drove away.

Once they were out of sight he double-timed it back to the SUV and headed home to change. He'd just snapped his cocky belt-buckle in place when the text came through.

**Parker's safe. Headed to my apartment.**

_Thanks_, he sent back, _sorry I had to leave like that._

**Not your fault. How late will your meeting run?**

_Not sure. Could be a late one._

**Okay. **

He wanted to talk longer, but he had to get going, so he said a quick goodbye, scooped everything he needed back into his pockets, and headed out. Fortunately, the lights and traffic were on his side tonight and he made it with plenty of time to spare.

The meeting was long enough and between it, and the Army's letter, and Parker's concerns from earlier, he left it feeling like he was drowning in choices; unsure which decision was the right one. So instead of going home he went to his office, trying to clear his head.

From the bottom drawer he took out two things. The first was his collection of pictures and newspaper clippings of he and Bones throughout the years. His lips curved up at the one of them outside of her dad's trial, holding up their coffee cups and smiling as if nothing was wrong. He held the picture of her that he'd taken out just this morning, tracing the curve of her jaw and feeling like he was one of the luckiest guys around now that she'd accepted his love and loved him in return.

Setting the open file with her pictures aside, he stared long and hard at the book in front of him, tracing its cover several times before he slowly opened it. Years ago, one of the wives of a guy in his unit had collected tons of pictures, including candids, made lots of copies, and put them all in a neat little scrapbook for all of the guys and their families- even the ones who hadn't made it back. It had quickly become one of Booth's most valued possessions and he kept it close to him at work on those days he needed extra motivation.

Tonight, he was hoping it would give him some kind of direction. Partway through, Hodgins called, letting him know that he'd found a bunch of financial records and suggesting that maybe something work related had triggered the hoarding. Ever the conspiracy theorist, the bug man had mused that one never knew about the secret lives people hid in their past. Teddy's smiling face looked back at Booth from the page and he decided this was not the conversation he needed to get into tonight, and he hung up.

He was still staring at Teddy and his younger self a few moments later when there was a knock on his door. Sighing heavily and wondering if he would _ever_ catch a break he was about to invite whoever it was in, when the door opened.

"Hey," Bones smiled, shutting the door behind her to preserve their privacy as she walked around to his side of the desk and perched on it, just in front of him. "How did your meeting go?"

He shrugged, not sure how to explain everything to her, and was eternally grateful when she changed the subject to the pictures on his desk. She remembered Teddy from when he'd shown her a picture after his narrow escape from the Grave Digger, though instead of focusing on the dead man, she commented that he would probably be proud of the boy who shared his name.

Slowly, they worked their way through the rest of the album, with Bones listening quietly as Booth shared some of the lighter anecdotes he had from those days. When he moved to start putting things away she caught sight of the file full of their pictures and teased him lightly about being a sentimental tough guy. She also noticed the framed picture of the two of them up with Parker's and said it looked just right.

"Bones," he said, spanning her waist with her hands as he stood up, "we should talk. There's so much-"

"Shh," she laid a finger on his lips and shook her head. "Tomorrow, not tonight. It's time to go home."

"But we-"

"I want to go home with you tonight, Booth," she spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper and the hand that was not up by his lips reached forward to brush his belt buckle suggestively. "Take me home and make love to me."

That night, not a word was spoken about the Rangers, or the Maluku islands, or the decisions that they both had to make and the impact it could have on their partnership. Instead there were murmurs of trust, and respect, and a love five years in the making that lasted late into the night. And when they were spent and basking in the afterglow he wrapped them up in his thick, warm covers, and fell asleep the happiest he'd ever been in his life.


	12. Waking Up Boothy

Chapter 12: Waking Up Boothy

She woke up surrounded not only by Booth's arms, but by his scent as well: a heady mix of Old Spice, VO5 hair gel, and his unique pheromones. Since she'd first laid eyes on the California king-sized bed in his apartment, she'd envisioned what it would be like to share it with her partner and thus far it did not disappoint.

The mattress itself was firm- most likely because of his back- but the comforter was thick and warm, and the soft sheets had a very high thread count. At her back, she felt him stirring and turned in his arms to face him.

"Mmm," he smiled, voice thick with sleep, "I like this view."

He leaned in to kiss her, stubble grazing her as he migrated from her lips, across her face, and down her neck before coming back to her lips.

"Good morning to you too," she smiled, lips only millimeters from his. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," he nodded, pulling back just a tad to trace his finger along her jawline. His eyes lit up with a teasing glint, "Do you proposition men in their offices and make them take you home often?"

"No," her soft hair shook, voice small as she admitted, "only you."

He raised an eyebrow, but she was telling the truth. Though she'd had many men come and go through her bed, unless she was cohabiting with a man she would not sleep in his. Hotel beds were fine as well, but she had become adept at making excuses not to end up in the man's bed.

"Wow," he said softly and with a touch of awe. "Why me, Bones?"

She squirmed, slightly uncomfortable with the intimate turn the conversation had taken, but stilled as his fingers laced with hers.

"I trust you, Booth," she answered honestly, then couldn't resist teasing, "and I know where all of the guns are kept."

"Good thing I trust you too, then, huh?" he winked. "I might re-hide them now, though. Wouldn't want you to shoot me again."

"That was _once," _she protested. "And it was just a flesh wound!"

"Speaking of flesh wounds," he eyed her neck and waggled his eyebrows possessively.

"You didn't!" she gasped, hand flying to her neck as crimson flooded her cheeks.

"Calm down, Bones, you can barely see it," he reassured her. "Not sure if I can say the same about my back."

Instantly, she propped herself up on her elbows and leaned over him to inspect his back and was relieved to find it as smooth and white as ever, "There's nothing..."

She realized that he'd been playing her a few seconds too late, but she really couldn't complain as he pulled her against him, leaving her on top. His alarm sounded before they got very far and they both groaned in protest, but still got up.

Ever the gentleman, he offered her the bathroom first while he went to go put the coffee on. When she'd finished, she found a soft robe to wrap herself in and went in search of breakfast, the coffee aroma waking her as she neared the small kitchen.

Booth was busy at the stove, scrambling eggs and he motioned for her to sit. She grabbed a plate and utensils for each of them, and poured the orange juice before finally alighting on a stool at the small table. The percolator finished just as he pulled the pan off of the stove and emptied the eggs into a large bowl. She jumped a little when four slices of bread popped out of his toaster.

"Anything else you want?" he asked as they handed the plates back and forth to be filled.

"This is good," she assured him.

And it was. The eggs were fluffy and not overcooked and he had a jar of strawberry preserves for the toast. They compared schedules for the morning and discovered that he needed to interview the victim's work partner, while she had to check on Daisy's histological report, as well as determine how much remodeling had occurred on the skull where they'd found the blade marks, not to mention the correspondence work she was doing with the Maluku team.

At the mention of Maluku they quieted, neither one of them up to broaching the subject of their offers quite yet. From the living room a cu-cu clock sounded, reminding them that time was running short and they still needed to dress for the day. Booth cleared the table while she found two travel coffee mugs for them before they headed back to the bedroom.

"I'm gonna grab a shower," he said invitingly.

"We don't have time for me to take a second one," she smiled ruefully, though that didn't stop her from shedding her robe just before he headed down the hall.

"Not fair," he moaned, drinking in the view long after she'd turned away from him and started pulling clothes from the overnight bag she'd packed.

"Go," she ordered without looking at him.

He did. Reluctantly. And his shower was short. To his disappointment, it wasn't short enough and by the time he was back in the room she had too many clothes on for his taste. What did amuse, him, though, was that he found her rooting around his closet, with a suit already laid out on the neatly made bed for him.

"Remember this tie?" she asked, lifting it up to reveal the pinup girl underneath.

"First one I bought after I met you," he grinned.

"You free-thinking rebel," she let out a throaty laugh.

"I thought you liked 'good boys?'" he teased, pulling on the pants she'd picked out for him.

"I like a good mix of both," she shot back, her fingers tucking his St. Christopher medal into his undershirt as she dropped a red tie on the bed beside the blue suit jacket.

She left him, padding down the hall with her makeup kit in hand and he decided that he very much enjoyed having her sleep over. It was also nice that she knew her way around his apartment and hadn't hesitated to pitch in with the little chores like she always did. She had good taste in what she'd picked for him too; though he'd wear anything if it meant he could persuade her to stay more often.

"I'll do that," she informed him as she breezed back into the room, setting the makeup bag down and taking his tie from him.

Deftly, she slung it around his neck, tied the knot, and eased it closed, smoothing it down when she'd finished.

"That was sexy," he said, pulling her in for a kiss before she could get away.

"We need to go," she insisted.

"Five more minutes," he breathed, wrapping his arms around her fully.

"Two," she countered, hands sliding effortlessly along his dress shirt.

"Three," he murmured into her ear.

"Fine," she caved, but kept them standing. "No bed."

Words ceased as lips crashed like cymbals and tongues began their frenzied dance. To her surprise, it was he who pulled back first, his palm fixing her now-mussed hair. She stepped back, inspecting him, then used her thumb to remove the faint traces of gloss from his lips.

As if they hadn't been minutes from shucking all clothing and going back to bed, they exited the bedroom and collected their things for the day. Booth was more than pleased that she'd left her overnight bag, while Brennan was wondering if she was being too forward too fast.

They discussed the case as they drove, then moved on to the topic of Hodgins and Angela, and had just started to ease their way into discussing their own situation when they reached the Jeffersonian.

"We need to talk," her tone was grave, knowing neither one of them really wanted to broach the topic, but knowing the needed to.

"Yeah," he sighed heavily, his hand playing with her fingers idly. His smile was weak, "We could just lock ourselves in my apartment and never come out."

"We can meet for lunch and then discuss things," she ignored him, trying to refocus.

"Text me when you leave?" he asked.

She nodded, the weight of the decisions ahead of her nearly crushing her on the inside.

"Hey," he said softly, "shhh. We'll figure this out, Bones, okay?"

She said nothing, but squeezed his hand tightly before releasing it and gathering her things. He watched her until she disappeared inside, then prepared himself to talk to a woman who might very well hold the key to her partner's death.


	13. The Bench

Chapter 13: The Bench

Booth sighed in frustration as he watched Tim Murphy's partner leave, feeling he was no closer to cracking this case than he had been yesterday even with the new tip. He was mostly frustrated with himself because he knew his heart was as far from work as possible and he didn't like doing a second-rate job at things.

Retreating into his office, he swept up the pictures scattered on his desk from the night before and secured them back in their locked drawer before settling down in his chair. Pointedly ignoring the Army letter staring at him from the corner of the desk, he booted up his computer and started rifling through his office mail while he waited.

A smile lit his face when he discovered an email from Bones. It was just his copy of the histology report, complete with her notes translating it for him, but what struck him was how much of it he understood on his own. More and more he'd been noticing that he could pick up on her squinty terms for things, just like she could read body language with increased accuracy.

He shook he head, wondering why all of these things were coming up that could tear them apart just as everything in their personal and professional lives was starting to really come together.

Bones hadn't texted him yet, so he started in on his report for Caroline now that they had cause of death. Restlessness tugged at him though, so when Hodgins called to let him know he and Sweets were headed back to the crime scene, Booth decided that he would tag along too.

"Why don't _you_ have to wear one of these?" Sweets whined at Booth, pulling on the jumpsuit Hodgins had handed him when they'd arrived.

"I'm too dumb," Booth grinned. "Gotta have a least one doctorate to rate one of those."

"You'd think they'd have one in my size today," the kid grumbled as they headed upstairs.

"They did," Hodgins confided in Booth in a conspiratorial whisper when Sweets moved ahead of them. "I just gave him the smallest one we had. If we're still here tomorrow- I'm giving him Cam's!"

Feeling like he was in the middle of some weird geek frat initiation ritual, he merely grunted and hoped it didn't encourage the bug man any further. A group of FBI techs was out in the hall when they reached their floor, so Booth hung out in the apartment's doorway to supervise both sides of the operation.

There was damage to the door frame that Booth prodded at with his penknife, looking for something beyond just termite damage. He found it on the door itself, near the latch: splintered wood that screamed "robbery" especially given Murphy's claim to have been offered fifty grand for something he owned. He'd seen people killed for less.

Booth listened with half an ear to Sweets lamenting about Daisy's choice of Maluku over him. Personally, Booth had always thought Daisy was just one step past annoying, but he tried to break it to the kid gently that he might be better off without her.

"Dr. Brennan was asked to head up the expedition," Sweets retorted. "Will you be better off without her?"

"Excuse me?" this was new to Booth and he didn't like not hearing it right from her.

"Daisy told me," the kid said like they were in Jr. High and he was passing along juicy gossip.

Booth blew it off, "No, Bones is not going anywhere."

Sweets shook his head, like Booth was in denial and suddenly Booth wondered what exactly she wanted to meet and talk about. A knot started to form in his gut and he knew it was time for him to split and wait for her call.

B&B&B&B&B&B&B

Once her starvation theory had been proven correct, the next step was to determine how much remodeling had occurred in the blade wounds from impact to the time of death in order to give Booth a time frame for the initial altercation.

To her consternation, Ms. Wick had been been overly exuberant all morning since finding out about Brennan's offer and she seemed adamant that Brennan's presence was required on the Maluku project. Brennan pointed out that she would not be making any choices without consulting Booth, citing their partnership, which was just as valid a reason as their new relationship status.

The over zealous intern spoke about Dr. Sweets' opinion of Booth's warrior traits and Brennan wondered if the young psychologist realized just how haunted by his sniper past Booth was. Daisy's comment about them holding each other back cut to the quick, but Brennan ignored her and turned them back to the case work. She had to repeat that action again at Daisy's implications that Brennan would not to miss out on the certain notoriety the dig would bring its participants.

She left the platform and attempted to do some more work in her office. When she couldn't concentrate, she decided that it was time to call Booth.

B&B&B&B&B&B

"So, Bones, here we are," he opened as they sat on one of the benches near the Hoover, sipping coffee since it was too early for lunch. "What's all the mystery about?"

She explained about the offer she'd received to head up the Maluku project and was as displeased as Booth to learn he'd found out through an alternative source.

"You want to accept, don't you?" he said without meeting her eyes. "Well, it's okay, Bones. I mean, you don't need my permission, okay? It's-it's cool."

He was distancing himself from her, so she reminded him of where she'd learned the value of making eye contact and petitioned him to look at her.

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely, and they shared a sad smile.

"To be honest, I'm not certain I'm going to accept," she disclosed. "Circumstances have changed so rapidly recently, I'm not sure of much."

"What are you sure of, Bones?" he asked, surreptitiously laying his hand over hers.

She linked hands with him tightly and attempted to be as forthright as possible, "I'm sure that I need a respite from the violent crimes we see every day. They have been wearing at me and I find myself constantly concerned for your safety when we're out in the field. I'm sure that I need to be able to gain some objectivity on what my priorities are, as well."

His hand started to slip as he looked dejectedly at her, "Oh. Well."

"But I am also sure that our _personal _relationship is not something I with to forfeit in the process," she assured him. "I value what we have very highly, Booth. And I would _never_ make such a large decision without consulting you first."

"I have some decisions to make too," he confessed.

"The Army."

"Yep, and just to make things interesting- you know that meeting I was at last night?" She nodded so he went on, "That was Hacker and a few of the guys above him. Seems they don't really want to share me, so they're offering me a really good teaching gig at Quantico instead."

"So you wouldn't have to leave Parker!" she said enthusiastically.

"That's one of the big perks," he admitted.

"But you're still considering the Army?" she concluded.

His head bobbed up and down slowly and he looked questioningly at her, "So where does that leave us?"

"Well," she said, having given the matter some serious thought, "remember your dentistry analogy? The one about not making rash decisions too quickly?"

"Yeah, sure, I remember," his eyes were focused solely on her.

"Well, perhaps it would be best for us to take some time and adequately reflect on the decisions before us, as well as seek the objective opinions of others for the next 24 hours before selecting a course of action?"

"You mean apart from each other?" he wanted to know.

"I believe that would be wisest," she swallowed. "Including our night time activities." His face fell so she assured him, "It's only a day."

"Yeah," he was trying to put on a brave face, "what's 24 hours, right?"

"It's the time it takes for the earth to rotate around its own axis," she gave him the scientific answer.

"I mean in the scheme of things," he explained. "You know, a day- it's not too bad, right?"

"Right," she affirmed. "It's the best way. I mean, nothing _really_ has to change."

"No," his face grew serious, "things have to change. Hey, you know what? I taught you about eye contact, you taught me about evolution, so," he paused for a moment. "Here's to change."

"To change," she agreed, their travel mugs thudding dully together.

They both broke eye contact, neither one of them saying anything as the city pulsed around them.

"What if we started the 24 hours _after _lunch?" he asked suddenly, squeezing her hand.

"Well," a small grin tugged at her lips, "we _are _the ones who set up the parameters so I suppose that would be acceptable."

"Yes!" he crowed, grin splitting his face for the first time since they'd sat down. "I'm in the mood for pizza, what do ya say?"

"I say," she dragged the word out as they rose, "fine. _But_ only if I make the order because the last time you did I ended up picking bacon bits out of my side."

"Hey," he pulled her even closer to him as they started walking down the street, "it's not _my_ fault they messed up. And I don't want veggies on my half- especially not onions!"

"Onions are very good for you," she lectured.

"They're only good on cheese steaks," he countered, "or deep fried."

"Disgusting," she made a face.

"Oh, Bones," he grinned, "one of these years you are definitely going to experience the beauty of a Philly cheese steak!"

She rolled her eyes and bumped his shoulder with hers and he bumped back and for the next hour they were like any other couple, in any other city; reveling in the joy of each others' presence and soaking up every moment as if it was their last.


	14. What's in a Day?

Chapter 14: What's in a Day?

Booth discovered that he wasn't as opposed to onions as he thought- or at least not the way they tasted in her mouth when they kissed goodbye. It wasn't a short kiss, but it wasn't nearly as long as he wanted and it seemed even shorter given the eternity he would have to wait to kiss her again. When he brought that up, trying to bargain for another kiss she chided him for being melodramatic and gave him the same amused smile as she had during their first case back from his tumor when he'd asked for a kiss.

They had agreed to meet the next day for lunch and discuss their options before making their final decisions. It meant a lot to him that she hadn't said yes right away and that she was going to ask for some outside advice too. He'd done his Googling while he waited for her to call and discovered just how much she'd been downplaying things for him.

The dig was comprised of three separate teams, each with their own specific agenda. The scientific, historical, and archeological fields were all abuzz about the potential this site held, and it didn't take a lot of reading between the lines to know that professional prestige was at stake. A quick look at the list of people involved read like a Who's Who list from the different disciplines, and for Bones to be asked to supervise all three groups was an amazing honor, and a testament to how respected she was in her field.

It was hard for him sometimes to think of the bigger life that she led outside of their partnership and the more he read about this dig, the more he wondered if it would be selfish of him to let her stay. This could certainly mean big things for her future career and the last thing he wanted to do was hold her back, no matter how much he loved going to work with her every day.

The thing that had struck him the most, however, was how worn out she seemed from dealing with murder victims on a weekly, if not daily sometimes, basis. Up until recently she'd seemed to be compartmentalizing things the way she always had, but he knew a big part of that ability had been taken out of her during the Grave Digger trial. Only a few nights ago, her body had been wracked with sobs as he'd held her tight and she was obviously still shaken from it. He really couldn't blame her for wanting to take a step back and get some perspective.

His end of the decision making spectrum was a whole different matter. Words like duty, honor, and service to one's country still resonated deep within him despite the years he'd been away from the Army. While it was true he carried around a few demons from his sniper past, he'd do it all again for the life lessons that had been instilled into him during his early adult years. The Rangers had taken an arrogant, angry kid, torn him down until he felt like he was nothing but dirt, and then rebuilt him into a man who was strong, sure of himself, and in full command of his emotions.

A ringing at his belt stopped his musings short and he answered, "Booth."

"If you're done playin' tonsil hockey over your lunch break, I'm watin' on my report," a slightly amused, but ever-impatient Caroline fussed.

"I'll go grab it," he assured her, jogging up the steps and into the building.

"I'll be in the conference room," she informed him, then hung up.

It was no surprise that she questioned the lack of "spice" in his report given how long it'd taken him to cobble together that much and for the first time in years he had to fend off the apathy he felt toward this case. She stared at him long and hard, expecting an answer without having to ask for one and he pulled the letter from where it had been burning a hole in his suit jacket.

He could feel her eyes traveling between him and the letter as he started to pace, running a nervous hand through his hair.

"Aren't you a little old to go off fighting wars?" she questioned him pointedly.

"I'm not going to be fighting," he sighed, then repeated the recruiter's speech. "They just want me to train soldiers to investigate, pursue, and detain."

"Are you going?" her tone was maternal, without it's usual bite. "What about your partner? I thought you two had finally wised up?"

He leaned back against the conference room wall and sighed with a slight shrug, "We're still deciding. Bones, she got invited to go to Indonesia. A huge thing for her." He stood up again, "You know what, maybe it's time for you find a new FBI guy and forensic anthropologist?"

"Yes," the sarcastic edge was back as she stood up. "On account you're both so replaceable. You gotta act like a big boy on this one."

"You don't want me to go?" he was looking for some kind of out to give himself.

"Nope," she shook her head, facing him head on, "you go, you stay- that's up to you. But before you go, you clear this case. Not just dress up nothin' in a nice report."

She took one last, sad look at him before walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again. Taking his letter from where Caroline had left it he put it back in his jacket and went back to brood in his office until something new broke in the case. There was a manilla folder outlining the FBI's teaching proposal, along with a one-year contract for him to sign waiting for him on his desk.

He paged through it for a few minutes, noting that it was pretty much what they'd told him about last night. Teaching wasn't a new thing for Booth. He and Bones had given their share of joint lectures over the last few years, not to mention his gig at Scotland Yard a couple years back. What he hadn't had to do- and what they were asking him to- was teach over a long period of time, follow a set curriculum, come up with tests, and hand out grades at the end.

Coming to the end of the contract, he flipped open his cell phone and dialed, a sense of relief hitting him when the person on the other end picked up, "Hey, Chris, mind if I ask you a few questions about what it's like over there at Quantico?"

His old instructor was more than happy to answer his questions and give his opinion when asked. The thing Booth had always appreciated about Chris was that he didn't sugar-coat things, so he gave Booth a good idea of what the downsides of the job were too; something he hadn't been able to drag out of Hacker and company last night.

When Chris asked him whether or not he was considering the job, Booth told him about the Army's offer and what all that would entail. The two men discussed what the pros and cons would be for him; the biggest plus being that he wouldn't have to leave Parker for a year.

"I can't tell you what choice to make," the older man told him, "because in the end, it's your life that's affected. It sounds to me like you and Dr. Brennan have a stable enough relationship that you could survive the time apart, and the two offers aren't all that much different once you strip them down to bare essentials. So the question for you, Seeley, is how long is a year in the life of your son?"

There was a call coming in on the office line from the lab, so Booth quickly thanked his friend for his time and the food for thought and hung up. To his disappointment it was Cam, not Bones, calling to let him know about Hodgins' atomic gnome find, and that Angela had located potential suspect. He called Caroline as soon and Cam was done and she gleefully told him that she'd snag the warrant for him.

A couple hours later, he was back in the interrogation room, gnome and suspect in tow. From the outset he sensed the guy was a few fries short of a Happy Meal the way he talked like the gnome was real, but Booth went with him. He hid a smirk when the guy said that the gnome saw everything, glad for the first time that Bones wasn't along for this one, but even he had to give up when the gnome told Rocky to zip his lip and call for a lawyer.

Caroline was not pleased, even with the fancier report that his partner brought over, since they still had no clue who the murderer was or what had caused the injuries that had led to Murphy being trapped under his crap in the first place. She also could see through the nervous tension between them and told them that they'd better be damn sure about how these little trips could affect them before they made any permanent decisions.

"Are you alright?" Brennan asked, concerned, as they stood abandoned by the elevators where Caroline had left them.

"Just, you know, frustrated with this case," he said lamely.

"Yeah," she nodded just as lamely. "I guess- well, I mean, I should get back to the lab."

"So since we talked, do we have to reset the timer?" he joked as she reached out and pressed the elevator call button.

"This was work," she rationalized. "We _are_ partners so it's not feasible to think we could go an entire 24 hours without interacting on a professional level."

"You're right, hey, don't stay up with that skull too late tonight, Bones," he smiled.

"I won't," she promised. "And you shouldn't watch copious amounts of television. The inactivity isn't good for you, nor is falling asleep on your couch good for your back."

He was so close he could've kissed her, but instead he caught her hand in his for just a brief second and squeezed tightly.

"See ya tomorrow," he half-whispered as the elevator dinged it's arrival.

"Good bye," she flashed the small smile she reserved just for him.

The doors closed between them, swallowing her up and he was alone. With no dinner companion, no drinking partner, and no one to breathe life into his lonely apartment, he stayed as late as he could, then left, convinced that this would be one of the longest nights of his adult life.


	15. A Boothy Alternative

Chapter 15: A Boothy Alternative

"That's a big smile," Angela commented when Brennan returned from her rendezvous with Booth, winking suggestively. "What kind of lunch are they serving over at the Hoover these days?"

"We didn't eat in the Hoover's cafeteria," she made a face, remaining deliberately obtuse.

"Either way, I still say you and Sexy had some fun wherever you went." Angela moved closer to Brennan and whispered, "Don't think I don't know a hickey coverup when I see one."

Brennan flushed, hand flying to her neck as her feet carried her swiftly into her office. "It's-" she fumbled for words.

"It's a good thing, Sweetie," Angela assured her with a smile. "A very good thing. Explains a lot of what we were chatting about yesterday."

"It does?" Brennan sank into her chair, wondering if she was up for an afternoon full of Angela's gushing.

"Yep," the artist nodded, then gave her a sympathetic look. "You'll figure things out with him, Bren. Just go with your metaphorical heart on this one."

"But what if my metaphorical heart needs a respite from its constant state of worry?" she wondered out loud.

"Then take it," Angela encouraged. "Just know that you don't have to go halfway around the world to get a break from being partners with Booth."

"Thanks," she said softly.

The two of them shared a look, Angela gave one last saucy comment about Brennan _finally_ riding that train, and she left Brennan to her own thoughts. The problem was, Brennan discovered quickly, that she now had more doubts than ever as to what the necessary course of action should be. Angela had offered her advice and only other person Brennan had ever entrusted her feelings to was Booth.

Shoving her feelings away for the time being, she buried herself back in her work until Hodgins announced he'd found something of import in the case. It was an odd discovery to be sure, but a useful one and one she hoped would help them wrap up this as-yet weak case. Cam offered to call Booth and Daisy was still busy with the skull, so Brennan went back to her office once again.

**Working hard or hardly working?** The text appeared on her phone an hour later.

_The former_, she replied. _Did you talk to the man who misappropriated the gnome?_

**Yeah, he's a nut but he checks out.**

_Oh._

**Is your report for Caroline done? Including the new stuff?**

_Yes. Does she need it?_

**She's getting restless.**

_I can bring it to you if you want._

**Sure! See you soon! :)**

She couldn't help the small smile that came to her face as she gathered up the appropriate papers to take over with her, then remembered something she'd wanted to tell Booth earlier.

_Angela knows about us thanks to your vampire-esque tendencies._ She typed as she left her office for the Hoover.

There were several peoplewho she either needed to talk with or who needed to talk with her on her way out, so it wasn't until she was outside the building that she could read his reply.

**Hah! Caroline found out too. Guess our secret's blown now.**

She paused for a moment to reply before starting her car, _Does that bother you?_

**Nah. **His response was almost instant.

The phone rang so she had to wait to see if he'd written anything more, "Brennan."

"Hey, Bones," the familiar voice brought a smile to her face. "I figured this might be easier than texting and walking at the same time."

She clipped her blue tooth earpiece on and slid the phone into her purse, thinking for a moment about calling him on the fact that they were not supposed to be talking outside of work-related topics, then dismissing that idea out of hand. One of the reasons that she and Booth connected so well was because of their natural ability to talk about any variety of subjects. Even if they didn't agree on a topic, the discussion was always lively and enjoyable.

They did end up spending most of the conversation on the case; both agreeing in the end that it was weak and neither voicing that they weren't necessarily in a rush to close the case given the decisions that would have to be made shortly thereafter.

"Oh, good, come here," he put his hand firmly on her lower back while simultaneously snatching the report from her hand.

"Booth!" she batted at his arm. "What are you doing?"

He opened it up, slapped it on the copier and pushed the button, then proceeded to do the same with the rest of the pages.

"Ooh, good," he murmured as he scanned the copied pages. "Very good."

"What is very good?" she demanded, arms crossed.

"You've got lots of the jibber-jabber in here," he grinned at her. "Caroline will love that; or at least, she'll ignore it, but count it as something. As opposed to my report, which she called nothing."

"Ah," she nodded in understanding. "I presume this means you will want to do all of the talking?"

"You got it, Babe," he winked, then collected all of the pages and strode toward the conference room.

"Booth," she complained, skipping to catch up with him, "you need to stop referring to me as an infant, especially in the workplace!"

"I'll wear you down," he turned around so that he was walking backwards and facing her, then mimed the next word, "Baby."

"What was that, Cherie?" Caroline's voice boomed from behind Booth.

"Ahh," he yelped, whipping around.

"Much as I hate to break up this love fest," the prosecutor went on, "we _do _have a case to solve. You wanna give me that report, or keep clutching it like a security blanket?"

Brennan chuckled while Booth scowled and launched into their report, handing over Brennan's findings. Caroline was only marginally impressed and had more to say about the choices the couple was considering than the case. Though she did warn them both that she wanted the case wrapped up as "tight as a drum" before leaving in her usual dramatic fashion.

Booth and Brennan stood by the elevator, once again using idle conversation to prolong her inevitable departure. When the doors closed, blocking him from her sight, she once again questioned whether her metaphorical heart could remain intact if they were separated for an entire year. The thought that she had become so dependent on another person for her own happiness both frightened her on one level, and on another brought her an odd sense of comfort and security she hadn't felt since she was a small child.

Somewhere between the Hoover and the Jeffersonian, she realized that another conundrum faced her: since she had stayed overnight at Booth's and he had brought her to the lab she was without a vehicle. Her first thought was that this would give her a legitimate reason to see him again tonight, but the part of her that wished to remain true to the spirit of their agreement won out in the end.

All transportation thoughts fled, however, when she reached her office and found that she had a visitor waiting for her patiently on her couch.

"Booth's at the Hoover," she informed him after they'd exchanged greetings.

"I know," Hank Booth flashed a very familiar smile at her. "I'm not here to see him, though."

"Oh," she said, taking a seat beside him when he patted the cushion. "I see."

"Do you?" the old man prodded.

"To be honest, no," she shook her head. "Did we have an appointment I forgot to meet? Is there something you wish to inform me of that you don't want Booth to know? Perhaps you'd like me to further clarify the treatment plan your doctor laid out for you?"

"Seeley called me earlier today," he said forthrightly, "he wanted my advice on some decisions you two have to make."

"And he asked you to speak to me as well?" she hypothesized, feeling slightly upset.

"No," Hank assured her, laying a tender hand on her arm. "He has no clue I'm here and would probably kick my ass if he knew since I took a cab."

They shared a laugh, "Yes, he would." She eyed him warily, "Why _are_ you here?"

"Didn't you listen to what I said?" he asked. "I'm here to help. This isn't some lightweight thing you're considering so I figured you'd need a sounding board too."

She nodded and found herself admitting, "Booth usually fills that capacity."

"I figured as much," Hank grunted. "Well, Sweetheart, I'm a little bit more grizzled and don't cut nearly the figure that that grandson of mine does, but I'm a Booth; and I'd be honored to listen to whatever's on your mind if you'll have me."

"Why?" she needed to know, fighting back a sudden rush of emotion.

"He loves you," came the simple reply.

Ever so slowly, through the pinpricks of tears that were as close to the surface as they had ever been, she began unpacking all of the emotional baggage that had been weighing her down since Booth's tumor a year ago. They talked about how the cases affected her on a personal level much more than they ever had before, and about her fears- rational and irrational- concerning her partner and dear friend.

Never in her life had she been more open and honest about her feelings toward Booth, but whether it was because of his familial ties or simply because he truly listened to what she had to say without interjection his opinion every two seconds, she felt safe exposing so much of herself. When she finished, he told her a few anecdotes from his own past concerning choices that he had made that were difficult at the time, and ones that he wished he had chosen differently once he had gained enough life perspective.

They talked about what she thought she would enjoy doing and what her possible options could be. When they'd finished, it was close to dinner time and she offered to treat him to a meal, arguing that it would be something _her_ Booth would insist upon before Hank headed home. With a laugh that shook his entire body, he agreed, telling her he hoped his grandson knew what he was in for.

An hour and a half later, they stood outside of the diner and she called him a cab, though not before eliciting a solemn vow from him that he would call the moment he arrived back at his apartment. With a tight squeeze and a rough kiss on her cheek, he said goodbye and wished her well. It was not until long after the tail lights faded that she walked back to the Jeffersonian, more sure of herself than she had been in quite some time.

After a few emails back and forth with Dr. Albright, where she made her position on the matter clear, she returned to the case at hand, fully focused and ready to coax the truth that she knew lay within the blade marks on Tim Murphy's skull.

"You been here all night?" Cam's voice startled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see the pathologist bearing a steaming mug of coffee.

"Is it morning?" she asked, fairly certain it was.

"Yes," Cam confirmed, setting the coffee down for her.

"I've been here all night," she said, going back to the skull.

Cam then asked if she had found anything and listened closely as Brennan pointed out the relationship of the direction of force versus the direction of impact. She went on to explain that it was a fan's propeller that had caused the wound, recalling the number of fans that had been present at the crime scene. She set the skull down reverently with a small sigh.

"Are you really leaving the Jeffersonian?" Cam asked, confirming that she had received Brennan's late-night email notice.

"Yes," she nodded, then quickly qualified her answer, "for a year. I can provide you with a list of forensic anthropologists who can do this job."

"No, Dr. Brennan," Cam spoke with warmth and wisdom, "you can provide me with a list of forensic anthropologists."

"I don't know what that means," she hedged, unsure if what she suspected the pathologist was really saying was true.

The women shared a look: a smile, borne out of a relationship that had begun with animosity, grown to grudging respect, and was now something akin to a professional friendship. As she watched Cam turn and leave the room, Brennan knew she would miss her far more than she had ever thought possible.


	16. The Vanishing Point

**Author's note: And so we come to the final chapter in this little project of mine. It's some of the most fun I've had writing in quite some time, especially weaving in parts of the real finale. It was also a lot of fun to rewatch the episode and enjoy it for the nuances. I can almost quote the thing now, but I love it even more than I did the first time.**

** I need to thank all of you who have taken the time, not just to read but to review as well. Getting feedback really stirs my muse and feels like a little reward at the same time. I've also really loved getting feedback and chatting with you guys on Twitter. A big thanks too to **GreysIsTheCatsPajamas **for being an awesome sounding board and idea generator along the way. If you haven't read her stuff, you MUST. It rocks! *Pen Toast* **

** Without further ado, please enjoy my last offering.**

**Gum :)**

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Chapter 16: The Vanishing Point

He scanned the concourse for her and immediately spotted her among the cluster of squints there to send her, along with Daisy, off to the Maluku Islands since he'd been stuck on base. What struck him most was how much of a family they'd become in just five years and how seamlessly his Bones now fit in among them.

Ever the silent observer he chose to bide his time, knowing instinctively that her eyes would find him when the time was right. Angela, of course, was the last in the line of well-wishers and their embrace was the tightest. Finally, she looked around and found him. The others might've been surprised or shocked for all he knew, but he only had eyes for her and her eyes told him she was relieved and elated to see him.

His feet carried him swiftly toward her and she met him halfway, dropping her things only once they were together. There were no words left to say, so their hands fused, lips colliding as if unable to resist one another any longer. One of her hands dropped his and ran the length of his crisp fatigues, brushing the flag patch on its way to the back of his neck and through his newly styled hair.

"One year," he panted between kisses. "At the reflecting pool by the-"

"Coffee cart," she finished as if they were one person.

Their lips continued the mantra in their heads: _one year- one year- one year- one year-_

B&B&B&B&B

He sat bolt upright in bed; body covered in cold sweat and it took him some time to convince himself he wasn't at an airport, but in his bed.

"It was just a dream," he breathed aloud to nobody.

He tried rolling over and burying himself under the covers, but it was no use with the faint scent of her perfume still on his sheets. A groan escaped him as the numbers 4:47 glared mockingly at him from his alarm clock and he knew he'd never get back to sleep at this point.

Clad only in his boxers, he shuffled into the kitchen to start the coffee and poured himself a bowl of cereal. Then he sprawled out on his couch and flipped aimlessly through the channels. At this time of morning it was mostly just infomercials and really bad "B" movies, but he found one called "Mr. Fix-It" that wasn't too bad and stuck with it.

Eventually, the movie ended and the news came on and after a few minutes of listening to the talking heads he decided he'd been patient enough, so he threw on a suit, poured two travel mugs of the still-steaming coffee, and left. As his hands guided the car in the familiar direction, his mind wandered, hoping she wouldn't mind the visit too much since they technically still had 6 of the 24 hours left. He concluded that he didn't care if she did because at the very least he'd get to see her fresh out of bed look and that put a smile on his face in and of itself.

He did, however, value his man parts enough to knock at her door, rather than barge right in.

"Wakey, wakey, Bones!" he called loudly enough to be heard.

There was no reply so he knocked again, frown deepening because he was parked right next to her car so there was no reason for her not to be answering her door. Deciding he had waited long enough, he set down the drinks and the box of doughnuts he'd picked up along the way and went for his keys.

Outside of the low hum of her refrigerator he heard nothing as he stepped cautiously inside.

"Bones?" he called out. "Are you here?"

The silence gave him nothing in return and as he looked around it was soon clear she hadn't been around recently. It was only then that it dawned on him just how she'd gotten to the lab the day before. Without losing any more time, he set down his offerings and whipped out his phone, calling up her number. It had just started to ring when his call waiting sounded, telling him that "Bones :)" was calling him.

"Hey, Bones," he said casually, ending his original call as he picked hers up, "been out partying all night?"

"No," she answered, confused, "I was at the lab, trying to determine the cause of the blade marks on the victim's skull."

"Yeah, I kinda worked that out myself," he smiled. "I'm here at your place to surprise you with coffee and doughnuts, by the way."

"Oh," she let out a small laugh. "Well, that sounds nice; though it's in clear violation of our 24-hour hiatus agreement."

"Yup," he admitted freely. "Sort of like how you promised me you wouldn't stay at the lab too long, huh?"

"This was important," she insisted, "and for your information, I was calling to let you know I discovered what was used to make the marks."

"Enlighten me," he said, making himself at home on her couch for the time being and sipping at his coffee.

She talked about the direction of force being opposite from the direction of impact, but what it came down to was a propeller. Right away, he remembered all of the fans in Murphy's apartment, and was pleased when she said that that was what she felt it was too.

"I'll call in a tech team and have them pick up the fans," he told her. "You want me to pick up anything for you from your apartment since I'm already here?"

"A change of clothes would be nice, honestly," she said after a moment's consideration.

"Sure," he told her. "I've got your bag that you left at my place too so you'll have all of your makeup and stuff. Anything else?"

She couldn't think of anything and they said their goodbyes so that he could put in his call to the tech team right away and she could send Hodgins and Sweets over as well. What he didn't realize as he jogged back out for her overnight bag, finished his calls, and stepped into her bedroom was exactly what he'd gotten himself into promising to grab a change of clothes for her.

There were two dressers in her room filled with things, along with an entire walk-in closet. His eyes caught sight of a blue blouse that he remembered really liking on her and a little more investigation yielded him the black pants that pulled tight around her curves when she bent over. Black socks were also easy enough to locate.

He was just about to leave with his findings when he realized what he'd forgotten. It took him a few tries, but he finally found her lingerie drawer. Thanking whatever saints were listening, he saw she had them arranged in pairs so he grabbed the nearest one and added it to the bag. He was fairly sure that the shoes she'd had on yesterday would be fine with what he'd picked out so he did a quick sweep of her apartment to make sure all of the lights were off, locked the door behind him, and headed back to the lab.

B&B&B&B&B&B

She was putting the final touches on her most recent findings when Booth sauntered into her office with her bag of clothes, announcing that he'd successfully navigated the depths of her closet, risking life, and limb, and manliness for her. That and the way he melodramatically collapsed onto her couch after depositing two mugs of coffee and a box of doughnuts on the coffee table made it difficult for her to fully conceal her amusement.

"Thank you, Sir Seeley," she teased, snatching up the bag. "I'll be back momentarily."

"Lemme know if you need any help!" he shot back with a feral grin, eyebrows wiggling in a suggestive manner.

The lab was far too busy by now for her to use the decontamination shower, but it did feel good to peel off the clothes she'd been wearing since the previous morning and don new ones. She was impressed with the blouse and pants that he'd selected and very pleased that he'd included a fresh panty set as well. She smiled wryly at the thought of prudish Booth having to finger her lingerie and while the lab was not the place for it, she couldn't wait to question him about it.

By the time she returned to her office, he was sound asleep on her couch. Gently, so as not to disturb him, she draped the blanket over the part of his large frame that it would cover, took the coffee and one of the doughnuts that he'd brought for her, and went back to her desk to work. He grunted slightly, then shifted and was breathing heavily again.

Several minutes later Cam appeared in her doorway, but seeing the slumbering agent motioned her outside. Hodgins and Sweets, it appeared, had discovered pictures of the victim and his partner in one of the travel books on his shelf that suggested they were romantically involved. The fans were currently being dusted for fingerprints, but already one had been found containing her prints as well as his; and in a location that would suggest it was used as a weapon.

Brennan thanked the pathologist, then returned to her office. Booth was groggy, but awake, and after a doughnut and few swigs of coffee he called Caroline to secure the warrant. Once that was done, they left the lab and went to arrest Elaine Akusta. The arrest was without incident and the confession swift.

"So, Bones," he said when they had gone back to his office after the interrogation was complete, "only one hour to go."

"I-I've made my decision already," she admitted haltingly, a small part of her still wondering if it was the correct one for both of them.

"Yeah," his shoulders slumped slightly. "Me too."

B&B&B&B&B&B

Once all of the urgent paperwork for Caroline was cleared, they were free to leave with the understanding that if their full, richly detailed, reports were not on her desk by the weekend, Booth would be castrated. Not fully trusting himself to drive, Booth suggested that they walk and once again they found themselves on the same bench they had occupied less than 24 hours before.

"Before we begin I have a question," Brennan said cautiously, waiting for his inviting nod before she continued. "Do you feel as if our partnership has held you back in any way?"

"Of course not, Bones," he said adamantly. "Why, do you?"

"No," she shook her head. "I feel that our partnership has enriched us both, but it was suggested and I wanted your opinion."

There was a pregnant pause as they each waited for the other to speak.

"I'll go first," Booth volunteered, taking up her hand and meshing their fingers together. "I've decided to take the teaching post at Quantico. I'll be doing pretty much the same thing I would be for the Army, but without having to put up with sand, and uncomfortable beds, and drab uniforms; not to mention, they won't _touch_ my hair."

That earned him a smile from the beautiful woman beside him who added knowingly, "You stayed for Parker."

"Yeah," he said softly, releasing a long sigh. "I'm only half the dad I want to be for him now, and to leave him for a whole year..." he shook his head. "In the end I couldn't justify leaving for that long and putting myself in that much danger when the same thing was made available to me right down the road."

"You're a good father, Booth," she reassured him, squeezing his hand tightly. "And a true patriot no matter which branch of the government you serve."

"Thanks, Bones," he smiled warmly.

Suddenly needing to feel the strength of her embrace, he folded her into his arms and held onto her for a long moment. All too soon they separated, another silence falling between them as she prepared to share her decision with him.

"As you know, I've been in contact with Dr. Mark Albright, the project's chief coordinator for the past two days," she began. "Yesterday, he invited me to come down and take charge of the project, as I had been advising him already of certain measures that should be taken and equipment that could be used."

Booth nodded, impatient and nervous because she was only telling him everything he already knew.

"After careful deliberation and thought, as well as lengthy discussions with Dr. Albright and his associates, I have accepted the task of Project Coordinator," she said carefully, searching Booth's countenance for his reaction.

His face fell visibly, eyes dropping to the ground in dismay. Their hands were still joined, but his grip slackened noticeably. Had he looked up, he might have seen the sparkle in her eyes, but as it was he was doing his best to appear as supportive of her decision as she had been of his.

"That's, uh, that's great, Bones," he managed, still unable to meet her eyes again. "When do you leave?"

"In two weeks," she said, hiding her own emotions. "There are some other arrangements that need to be made still, plus I have a few outstanding projects with the Jeffersonian that need to be completed first."

"I'm sure you and Daisy will have a good time together," he was really fishing for supportive compliments now. "I'll take you to the airport. And, you know, with technology it shouldn't be too hard to keep in touch."

"No," she smiled, "it shouldn't." Unable to continue misleading him, she cupped his face in her hands and brought his chin up until he met her eyes, "Booth, I won't need you to take me to the airport because I will not be accompanying Ms. Wick."

"You won't?" suddenly he was reengaged in the conversation. "Bones, what aren't you telling me?"

"Just a few details," there was no hiding her almost gleeful expression now.

"Such as?"

"Such as I will be acting as the Project Coordinator for Stateside results," she revealed.

"Stateside, huh," Booth quirked an eyebrow. "Where, exactly?"

"Old Dominion University," she informed him. "They've offered the use of their research facilities; something the Jeffersonian could not do, due to the high volume of use they already have. Old Dominion's equipment is just as state-of-the-art, they are ideally located for the remains found during the dig to be transported to, and they have generously ceded one of their laboratory areas to my supervision."

"I know that look, Bones," he challenged her. "What else aren't you telling me?"

Her excitement was childlike as she retrieved a brochure from her jacket and handed it to him, pointing out the small map area on the back of it.

"Quantico?" he said incredulously. "How?"

Blue-gray eyes sparkled as she nodded, a broad smile splitting her face, "Old Dominion had already offered the facilities, Booth. All I did was ask if there were any positions open here in the States. I- I will still be coordinating with the team in Maluku via satellite transmissions for the first several months, and I'll be collecting all of the data into marketable reports for the Project's sponsor's and speaking to them in order to further funding. But once the remains are released, they'll be sent to my team and I for further analysis and review."

"Wow," his voice was full of awe, "that's amazing, Bones!"

"I've already informed Dr. Saroyan," she told him, "and thus far, I've only committed to being with the Project for a year. After that, I informed Dr. Albright that I would have to consult with you and reevaluate what we feel our professional partnership should be."

She probably would have proceeded to give him every other detail she and Dr. Albright had discussed, but Booth had other plans for her lips and, buoyed with hope for the future he never thought he'd have with her, he descended on them and kept them busy for several long minutes afterward.

B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B

A week after the Timothy Murphy case closed, there was a tearful goodbye at an airport made by the team from the Jeffersonian as they sent the new Mr. and Mrs. Jack Hodgins on an extended honeymoon to Paris. Neither of them had any desire to break in anyone else in the lab, and Paris was somewhere they had both dreamed of one day living, and a year seemed like a nice long time to live out that dream.

"Booth," Brennan said as they drove away from the airport together, "I've been thinking-"

"Uh oh," he teased.

She smacked his arm, then continued, "It would be highly inefficient for us to commute for an hour each way, daily, even if we are traveling together, so I was wondering if you would be averse to alternative housing arrangements?"

"Alternative?" he questioned.

"Yes," she nodded her head, "There are several properties for rent in the Quantico area that would be suitable for us for the duration of the year that we will be working in that region."

His heart swelled at the gesture she was making and he liked the sound of waking up next to her every day for at least the next year.

"That is," she backtracked, mistaking his silence for disapproval, "unless you don't want to live in sin with me. In which case I understand."

"Live in sin?" he laughed. "Where did you get that, Bones?"

"From the Mass service we attended last week," she frowned. "The priest seemed to frown rather heavily on fornication during his homily."

"Hmm," he grunted. "Well, I've already got a kid outside of wedlock, and you and I have the fornication thing going too, so we might as well live in sin while we're at it."

"You're mocking me," she accused.

"Maybe," he smirked. "But, Bones?"

"Yes, Booth?"

"I'd be more than willing to come home to you every day for as long as you'll have me."

**A/N: The "vanishing point" in art terms is the point at which TWO parallel lines appear to converge into ONE. **

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**If anyone would be interested in a sequel to this, please drop a line and let me know. I'm going on vacation for the next week but am toying around with a few ideas IF it's something people would read. Thanks again for all of your feedback!**

**Gum :)**


	17. The Sequel Has Landed

**The Sequel Has Landed**

The sequel to Vanishing Point is now up and running and entitled Horizon Line. The goal is for it to cover the year that Booth and Brennan have decided to spend in Quantico, VA. I hope you all enjoy it as much as you enjoyed this one. I'd also like to thank all of you for your reviews after the last chapter. It's been so rewarding to get your feedback on a project that I loved working on and even though I haven't responded personally to all of you, I do read each and every review. I've also really enjoyed getting to know some of you on Twitter so if you're on, give me a holler, I'm Thnx4theGum there too.

Again, thanks for the support and I'll see you in the sequel!

Gum :)


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